


Toying With My Emotions

by Miss_Rosula



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 09:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rosula/pseuds/Miss_Rosula
Summary: After her parents unexpectedly pass away, A'isha is forced to leave her life in America behind for a family she barely knows, back in her home country of Egypt. Unfortunately, grieving over her loss becomes a whole lot harder when her new school's most unattainable bachelor begins to mess with her life using his freaky mind powers.~Marik x OC~





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thanks for your interest in this fic! TWME is set in an alternate universe timeline. There is no Battle City or thirst for vengeance on Yami in this, but there are explanations for why Marik is the way he is and why he has the Millennium Rod. If you are wanting to read a Marik x OC fic that is set in the YGO-verse with Battle City, feel free to check out In A Name: Act I on my co-author account, MManipulative33.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! For the sake of story telling conveniences some things in this fic will be different to real life modern Egypt, though I try to have some consistency where possible. Please think of this fic as an alternate universe to our own reality, where driving licence ages, school curriculum, the state of the country, etc. are different to modern Egypt as we know it. I hope everyone can still enjoy the fic despite this!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the prologue of Toying With My Emotions.

A'isha listened numbly, the words like chilling bombs dropping from the ominous clouds as rain, the atmosphere cold and lingering with dejection. She gazed at the familiar officer's solemn visage as his lips spelt out words that should might as well mean the death of her, only heightening the mound of grimness, grievance and guilt that clawed savagely at her very being.

The compassion in his eyes made him look older. Once the shattering words had left his lips, he had resorted to clenching his jaw tightly. He silently awaited a reaction that he couldn't even begin to predict, as he examined the sorry sight before him: her.

The only reaction he received was a grim silence.

"I'm so sorry, A'isha," the man whispered. "I truly am." A gentle hand came to rest on her bare-skinned shoulder, a sheet of goose bumps blanketing her bronze skin. "Danny was utterly horrified when he heard, too." A'isha stiffened at the mention of Officer Miller's son, her teary eyes widening in disgust and horror combined. "They were among the kindest people I knew. The last to deserve—"

"Danny," A'isha interrupted distantly, her tone so low it was prone to pass for a whisper. "Where is he?"

Officer Miller cocked a confused brow. A'isha knew that should the present situation have been non-existent, he would've thought her question was spoken with sarcasm.

"He's still here, isn't he?" Miller queried. "He stayed behind with Lance to help you clean up?"

A sudden, sharp exhale of air, lungs squeezing tighter as if to choke her cold... "No..." A'isha breathed darkly, arms folded across her chest as her fingernails dug into the soft skin of her arms. Purplish grey was still slowly pooling. "He didn't help clean up." Her cerulean blue eyes narrowed in fiery rage that was hardly detectable in her shaky tone of voice. "He made things even worse."


	2. Chapter 1: A New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's short, but I promise they get progressively longer. Marik's in the next chapter. ;)

Sombreness swam deep within A'isha's cerulean blue eyes as she glanced at the trolley she pushed, stacked with bags that sadly held most of her possessions. She regretted the action immediately, for the many bags only reminded her of why she was actually here, in her home country of Egypt. A'isha clenched her teeth in a seemingly frustrated manner, before her attention turned to scanning the bustling airport for her aunt and uncle. She finally spotted them sitting in a nearby waiting area.

"A'isha!" cried her aunt, as the aforementioned approached her two relatives uncomfortably. "Oh my, you've grown!" She smiled and embraced her niece in a welcoming hug.

A'isha forced an awkward smile, hesitantly accepting the hug. She wasn't very close to her aunt or her uncle and she wasn't in the best of moods anyway. But they and her daughter, Amara, seemed to be the only ones A'isha had left, and she hated it.

"Sixteen now, isn't it?" Her uncle grinned, ruffling her black, wavy locks. "And to think that the last time you were here you were only four!"

A'isha nodded half-heartedly as guilt reintroduced itself to her disgruntled mind. He had reminded her of her recent birthday, which without a doubt won first place for the  _"Worst Day of A'isha's Life"_ award. She sighed glumly.

"A'isha, dear—" Her aunt placed a tanned hand on her shoulder. "Are you alri—?"

"What do  _you_  think, Elissa?" her uncle interrupted in an exasperated tone. "Both of her parents are dead!"

A'isha breathed out an exasperated sigh as her aunt and uncle began to argue.  _Seems that was all an act of pity,_  she thought bitterly.

After a minute of people stealing glances at the couple, A'isha finally spoke up again. "So," she interrupted in an almost desperate tone. She forced an awkward grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Why don't we get going? I'm itching to see Amara and my new room!"

* * *

"Oh my gosh!" Amara squealed in excitement. "A'isha, you're going to love it here!" She jumped up and down on the spot. "So many malls. So many boys: foreign  _and_  native! And all of them have one thing in common." She paused for dramatic effect. "They're all smoking hot!"

A'isha flashed a small, genuine grin. "Calm down, Mar. You're going to hit the roof," she teased.

"Well I know how much you  _love_  guys, and we sure dish em' out  _hot_!" She laughed loudly.

The Dahar family all had loud laughs, which didn't exactly win their teacher's over. Amara was always the loud and bubbly type. She was rather similar to A'isha, except, until recently, A'isha had been a rather harsh and selfish person, whereas Amara only had a mild case, as far as A'isha was aware.

"Actually, I kind of...don't really—um—" she drawled hesitantly, before pausing to rethink her sentence. "I...I'm not really crazy about guys anymore." A recent memory slashed betrayal through her, and shattered the momentary joy she had just shared with her cousin.

"Wha—Why?" Amara's hazel eyes widened in shock. "But-But we were—" She halted in her words. "Is this because you had to leave that Danny guy behind?"

A'isha scoffed. "Don't you even  _mention_  that disgusting pig of a person!" she snapped, her features morphed into a look of revulsion.

Amara's expression changed to one of sympathy. "What...did he do, Ish?" she murmured, referring to A'isha by her nickname. She placed a comforting hand on her cousin's shoulder expectantly.

"It's nothing, Mar," she lied. "So...don't fret."

Amara frowned. "Okay, but if you change your mind, please don't hesitate to tell me," she assured. "Okay?"

"Right." A'isha forced a nod. "Thanks, Mar," she spoke, as her cousin stretched her arms out, offering a hug. Ish accepted.

 _At least I still have Mar. She seems to understand me...and it seems she's the only one who does now._ A single tear rolled gently down her cheek.  _This is all my fault. Mum; Dad, I'm so sorry._ A shaky sob left her lips.  _I miss you both so much._


	3. Chapter 2: First Impressions

"Mum," Amara shouted out from the front porch, where she held the front door opened for A'isha. "We're off to the mall now."

"Okay, Mar," Aunt Elissa shouted from her room upstairs. "A'isha, I need that car back by quarter to four. I have to supervise the catering for a wedding reception."

"No problem," A'isha replied from her place beside her younger cousin. "See ya then."

A'isha grabbed Elissa's keys from the nearby key rack and followed Amara out onto the porch, clicking the front door shut behind her. She followed Amara down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, where a white sedan was parked on the side of the road.

She briefly scanned her surroundings, noting the green grass and mowed lawns of her neighbors.

Situated beside the majestic Mediterranean Sea, Alexandria is one of Egypt's largest cities, coming in second place only to the renowned Cairo City, home of The Great Pyramid of Giza and the mystical Sphinx. She smiled in fond reminiscence, remembering she once lived a few blocks from here.  _I can't believe it's been over eleven years._  Her next thought shed the smile from her face.  _If only the reason I live here once more wasn't because of my parents' passing._ A melancholy sigh left her lips, but a nudge on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie. She glanced at Amara, who was supposed to be texting her best friend that they were leaving as they were meeting up at the mall. Instead, Ish found her squealing and jumping like a crazy fangirl.

"Oh my gosh! Check him out, Ish!" Mar shrieked as she pointed her index finger frantically at a guy across the street.

He was shooting hoops with an older man whose skin was a few shades darker than his own bronze complexion. The guy that was Amara's current excuse for unnecessary spazzing was quite handsome, she had to admit. Although she usually preferred men with short hair, he somehow pulled off a shoulder length do. The platinum blond of his hair against his dark skin was a striking contrast; one that A'isha thought intriguing considering he was clearly of African descent. He wore navy blue running shorts and white sports shoes; however, to her cousin's delight, he was shirtless.

A'isha was shook to reality, literally, as Amara gripped her arm and leapt up and down. "He is so fine!" she squealed in her ear, causing A'isha to flinch. "His abs! I mean—Just look at his abs!" She grinned from ear to ear. "What I'd do to get a piece of that fine Egyptian ass."

A'isha leaned against the white sedan as she examined him with intrigue.  _He does look quite attractive,_  she thought with a small smile, but that smile quickly morphed into a look of horror when his gaze snapped her way. His lavender eyes bore right into hers, ice lingering within their depths. She barely registered her legs take a few steps back, the action influenced by the sudden intimidation brought by that narrowed gaze. He was suddenly a whole lot less attractive to her.

Her eyes rushed to find anywhere else to look but into his. "Shit," she shrieked as she covered her reddening face with her hand.

"Hey, Marik!" she heard Amara cry out in obvious adoration. A'isha could clearly imagine her cousin's current expression; eyes glistening with infatuation, an enormous grin upon her young face.

A'isha gave this Marik guy no time to reply, which she considered a good call after seeing the ice that glazed his eyes. "Time to go, Mar!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her right hand encircling the girl's wrist as her left swung the passenger door open. Ish threw her into the passenger seat, ignoring Mar's disgruntled "Hey—ow!"

Mar had a reputation for being boy-obsessed… Or to put it bluntly, a bit of a slut. She felt as if she always needed a boyfriend…or two…maybe three? A'isha recalled the phone call she'd received from Amara a few years back, proudly sharing that she had lost her innocence that night with her boyfriend of three days. She was thirteen. Funnily enough, her next phone call from Mar had been just a few days later; it entailed her cousin having a mental breakdown about how the guy she loved had broken up with her to be with her now ex-best friend. A'isha, although sympathetic at the time, had later told her she was a gullible idiot for having sex with a guy she'd been with for only three days; Amara hasn't mentioned her sex life to Ish since.

A'isha stormed around the car, daring a glance at Marik only to wish that she hadn't. An amused smirk was plastered onto his face, basketball in hand as he stared at the drama before him.

Her blue eyes narrowed. She had come across many smirks in her life, but there was something about his that really made her blood boil. Only when she reached the driver's door and swung it open did she build up the courage to hiss, "Do you mind, Pretty Boy?" She scrammed into the car and slammed her door shut before he could reply.

"Oh my gosh, Ish!" Amara cried in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing you just were?"

"I don't think I do," A'isha lied. She placed the key into the ignition and twisted it until the car roared to life. "Enlighten me."

"I was trying to introduce you to Marik!" Amara screeched, waving her hands frantically as if to emphasize her frustration. "And—well—some introduction that was! You were a total bitch to him!"

A'isha huffed as she checked that it was safe to pull out. "I don't care about first impressions, Mar." She exhaled deeply, hoping to dismiss some irritation from her mind. "And because I'm driving and I need to concentrate, can you just let this go?"

Amara sighed, an unsatisfied pout slipping onto her lips. "Fine."

Nighttime found A'isha and Amara hard at work in the kitchen.

"The lasagna's ready for the oven, Mar," A'isha stated, a glass dish in hand with a delicious lasagna prepared inside it.

"Awesome!" Amara replied with a bubbly grin. She glanced at a recipe book, then at the oven before saying, "The oven's at the right temperature. Chuck it in now and it should be ready in, like, half an hour."

A'isha glanced at the digital clock on the oven. "So at five past seven?"

"Um." Amara glanced at her smartphone. "Yeah, at five past."

"Okay." A'isha stretched her arms as she left the kitchen, walked through the dining room and into the family room. "When are Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad meant to be home?"

"I wasn't really listening. I think mum said she'd be home around eight or nine. Dad won't be home for ages because he's working noon till nine, I think."

A'isha grinned. "So we have the TV to ourselves…and Criminal Minds is about to play."

"I love that show!" Amara squealed, clapping her hands together as she ran into the room and leaped beside A'isha on the black, leather couch. "More for that hunky brown guy than the actual show."

"I like the actual show  _and_  Shemar Moore," Ish stated with a laugh. "He's a babe!"

Amara beamed excitedly. "Now this conversation's getting somewhere!"

The sudden ring of the doorbell interrupted her. The two girls blinked at one another.

"Are you expecting anyone?" A'isha voiced, resisting the urge to say 'guys' in place of 'anyone'.

"Nope," Mar said with a shrug as she left the couch and raced into the hallway. The click of the front door being unlocked and opened was followed by a squeal of excitement.

"Marik!" came Amara's thrilled voice.

A'isha straightened in her seat, her cheeks reddening as she recalled the hostility she'd demonstrated earlier that day.  _Oh great,_  she thought with a groan as her palm met her forehead.

"Hello, Amara," she heard a cold, grated voice greet.

 _He sounds like such a creeper,_  A'isha thought.  _He sounds cold, looks cold… I mean, his eyes were just so…_ She shuddered, unable to find just one word to describe them.  _Heaven knows why Mar basically worships him. Oh wait—He's black and he has a package._ A'isha smirked at this thought.  _That explains it._

Two sets of footfalls drawing closer snapped her from her thoughts. One set was loud and graceless; which she recognized as Amara's in a millisecond. The second set, however, was smooth and calculated. Perhaps that small detail offered her a glimpse of his personality.

Her eyes trailed up from her place on the couch to find him gazing down at her with those same icy eyes. He was a head taller than Amara, who stood beside him with an enormous grin plastered onto her face. If that was the case, he must've been just a few inches taller than she was.

"Oh," Amara smiled at Marik, biting her bottom lip mischievously.

A'isha felt like gagging. She unknowingly scrunched her nose in disgust at the way Amara was acting around Marik.

"You two haven't officially met yet, have you? Marik, this is my cousin, A'isha. We call her Ish for short." She gestured to A'isha as if it wasn't obvious. She was the only other soul in the room, which only gave A'isha a sense of misfortune.

"A'isha," Marik murmured softly, as if testing her name on his tongue. "Such a pretty name." He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised a bronze-skinned hand…barely. She hadn't bothered to rise from the couch.

A'isha glanced at her hands, which were balled into fists on her lap. Then, she eyed his hand suspiciously, her stomach squirming. She didn't trust him one bit. He hadn't done something to lose her trust, but he'd done absolutely nothing to gain it. The one thing that had earned her trust was her intuition and she wouldn't ignore it now.

Hesitantly, Ish accepted his strong handshake, her eyes narrowed warily the whole time.

"I believe you gawked at me earlier today." Marik continued, a mocking smirk curving the corners of his lips up.

A'isha's grip tightened, her eyes narrowing further as they gazed directly into his own. His eyes seemed to bait her as they bore back into hers. She ended the handshake immediately after, basically pulling her hand from Marik's vice like grip. It seemed like he didn't want to let go. Now she just knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She smiled sweetly. "It wasn't much of a view."

Marik's smirk didn't waver. In fact, it grew. He cocked a brow as if shocked. "Is that so?" he began, imitating a look of shock. "You looked quite enamored by what you saw. Not to mention you were mortified when our gazes crossed paths."

A'isha ground her teeth. Then her nose twitched and her eyes grew wide as the smell of charcoal tickled her nose. "The lasagna!" she cried as she leaped from the couch, shoved Marik out of the way and sprinted into the kitchen.

She shoved on some oven mittens. When she threw the oven door open, the smell of charcoal overwhelmed her. She quickly removed the glass dish from the oven and placed it on the stove.

"Remind me to never consume your cooking," Marik stated with an amused smirk as he leaned against the doorway that separated the kitchen and dining room area from the family room.

" _Consume_." A'isha groaned, glaring daggers at the guy. She was frustrated enough that their dinner was burnt. She didn't need this jerk testing her patience as well. "Can't you just say  _eat_?" She turned to her cousin, who was screwing up her nose at the burnt food. "I thought you said it would take half an hour in the oven!"

A'isha and Marik both stared at Amara as she examined the recipe. "Oops." She bit her bottom lip. "That's the cooking time for a serving for four people. We did half that." She rubbed her neck sheepishly. "And I may have done the oven temperature a bit higher than it said."

"Oops?" A'isha mimicked, smacking her head in frustration. "Well it's canned soup for dinner," she muttered, brushing a hand through her wavy black hair; an action she often did when stressed.

"Ew! No, canned soup's gross," Amara shrieked. She smiled sweetly as her attention turned to Marik. "Marik, could you please take me to the mall to get some sushi?"

"I can't." He sighed irritably. "My motorbike is at the mechanics."

"Oh," she voiced, clearly disappointed. She had wanted to ride on his motorcycle with him so that she had a valid excuse to wrap her arms around his waist.

"Why not delivery?" A'isha offered like it was obvious. It was easier than leaving the house at night and driving to the mall. "I feel like butter chicken."

Amara shrugged. "Whatever," she said simply. "You can phone. I'm gonna go shower." She smiled impishly at Marik, who cocked a brow in slight annoyance.

A'isha's mouth was slightly agape, semi-shocked by her behavior.  _Amara has changed so much. She was never this selfish and, well, bitchy._

"And when exactly did I become your personal slave?" she snapped as Amara ran up the stairs and out of sight. Ish huffed, frustrated furthermore that Amara had ignored her. She glanced at Marik, who was smirking at her. "And why exactly are you smirking?" she hissed.

Marik closed the little distance between them, his smirk growing at the unease this caused A'isha. "You," he said with a tap of her nose.

She furrowed her brows. "What?"

He chuckled. " _You_  are presently the source of my amusement."

"You're just plain creepy!" A'isha burst out, undeniably disturbed as she spun on her heel, grabbed the portable phone from the bench and ran upstairs to her room. She slammed the door behind her.

 _There's no way I'll be by myself with that creeper,_  she thought with a shudder. She sat on the bed, found the closest Indian store under frequent contacts on the phone and made her order. They told her that her order was about twenty five minutes away.

She glanced at her bedside table, where her iPod speakers sat. She smiled, crawling across her bed to grab her iPod and choose a decent song to jam to. She scrolled through her favorite playlist, settling on "Sexy And I Know It" by LMFAO. "I really need a good laugh," she voiced with a small smirk as she turned the music right up.

She leapt to her feet and began to jump carelessly around the room, singing along the song with a wide grin. Although she wasn't really putting much effort into it right now, dancing was actually her passion. Her dancing prowess compensated for her rather poor grades in most subjects, with the exception of French and English, which she was an A plus student in. It wasn't that she wasn't bright. She simply lacked discipline and shirked in her studies just to hang out with her friends and play Tetris and Angry Birds in class. But she was hoping to amend this at her new school.

A'isha leaped onto her bed, jumping as she sang, "I've got a passion in ma pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it."

A loud shout brought her from her tone deaf singing. "Hello, Ish." Her eyes widened and she stumbled from the bed and onto the carpet, barely avoiding a carpet burn to the face.

She groaned in agony. That agony grew when an increasingly familiar chuckle met her ears. "How graceful," Marik jested.

"Even if you weren't being sarcastic," she hissed as she rose to her feet, "how would jumping on a bed be considered graceful under any circumstance?"

Marik ignored her. Instead, he entered her room, quickly located her speakers and turned off the device. "Now that is far more relaxing," he murmured with a smug grin. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

"My dear?" A'isha almost spat. "Wait—You can't just come into  _my_ room and turn off  _my_ music!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't you have anything better to do than brass me off?"

 _Then again, knowing Mar she's probably still in the shower,_  A'isha thought, ensuring her dangerous glare didn't falter.

He ignored her bitter attitude as his lavender pools scrutinized her room.

A'isha sighed in an attempt to calm herself, if only a little. "Marik, I'd appreciate it if you would  _kindly_ leave my room," she informed with a sweet, but mocking smile.

He ignored her once again. Her hands balled into fists at her side at his lacking response. His eyes fell upon a framed photo. A young, dark haired girl beamed up at him. She was perched upon the shoulders of a laughing man who looked identical to Amara's father in physical features, aside from his very short black hair, instead of shoulder length hair like Ahad's. A blonde female with entrancing cerulean blue eyes held the man's hand tightly, smiling in content. He reached out for the frame when, suddenly, a small hand encircled his wrist.

"Don't touch it," A'isha said sharply, her eyes glued on the laughing girl. In an instant, her vision was clouded by hot tears that threatened to make their presence known. She dreaded letting them fall in front of him.

Marik's eyes softened as a frown weighed down his lips in place of a smirk for the first time that night. "What happened to them?" he whispered in a tone that was surprisingly sympathetic.

"A car crash."

"So that's why you're here," he murmured softly, as if thinking the sentence aloud. Then another question. "When?"

"Two weeks ago." Guilt was evident upon her face.

"You're guilty."

A'isha's eyes widened. "What?" she asked a little too quickly.

"I can see it, A'isha, Guilt plagues your mind," he spoke softly. "Why?"

She subconsciously bit her bottom lip.  _I've…never told anyone why they were in such a rush._

Suddenly, A'isha's eyes hardened. She glared venomously at the blond. "That's none of your business!" she hissed. "Don't act like you know me! You know nothing about me or my life and the way you've treated me since we met proves you don't deserve to!" She shoved him once in the direction of the door. He hardly moved. "I'd be an idiot to tell you. I  _am_  an idiot for telling you this much!"

Marik's expression grew solemn. "I'm an orphan too."

"I don't care!" she yelled callously, shoving him once more towards the door. This time he complied and began to retreat from the room, any and all form of smugness erased from his features as a child-like innocence made itself known in the form of a sorrow akin to A'isha's. Upon hearing her words once more he stopped mid-step. "You're not plagued by the guilt of knowing that they'd still be here if you'd never been!" she screamed, her cheeks reddened by rage. "Just leave me alone!

Marik's frown grew, remembering that she had stated he was acting like he knew her; and now here she was, jumping to conclusions about his own past. His hands curled into fists at his side. And how false her accusation was, for if he'd never been here then his mother would've never died as a direct cause of childbirth. He decided a better option would be for her to learn that detail on her own. So instead, he shocked her by leaving her to her lonely cries.


	4. Chapter 3: One Man, Two Masks

A'isha had her reddened face buried into her beige pillow. The black smear of mascara stained the pillow and black had dirtied her knuckles where she'd carelessly rubbed away tears that had made themselves known. She lifted her head to steal another glance at the reminiscent photo that now sat on her bedside table. She immediately regretted it when a familiar wave of grief overwhelmed her and tears erupted in her eyes once more.

Balling a trembling fist and smashing it against the pillow, A'isha let an infuriated shriek leave her lips. "I  _hate_  my life!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

She sat up on her bed, folding her legs and arms as she stared at the corner of the room furthest from her, enthralled in her thoughts. "Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad don't understand; they never did. But I—" Her bottom lip began to quiver as loneliness reared its ugly head her way. "I thought that Amara would. She's always understood me." She breathed out a shaky sigh as she attempted to stifle more tears. "But now…now no one understands."

Suddenly, A'isha heard soft, almost inaudible footfalls beyond her bedroom door. Her stomach tightened in alarm, as if squeezed without mercy by some invisible hand.

Someone had been listening.

A'isha could perceive the ongoing hum of the water pump, so Amara was still in the shower. No surprises there. A'isha had ordered Indian twenty minutes ago.

 _If it wasn't Amara then it must've been—_  A'isha's blue eyes narrowed  _–Sir Jerk-A-Lot._ She stormed towards the door and fiercely swung it open.

"Marik!" she screamed, only to be met by an empty hallway. She furrowed her brows as she marched along the hallway and down the stairs. She cautiously scanned her surroundings as she did, as if half expecting Marik to jump out and scare the hell out of her.

Instead, it was her sense of smell that was pleasantly surprised by the aroma of Indian cuisine. Confusion racked her brains as she tried to recall hearing the doorbell.

A'isha determined the smell was originating from the kitchen and wandered into the modernized room. She cocked a brow at the sight before her. There, sitting on the bench beside her cold, burnt lasagna, sat their fresh, inviting Indian. She took a few steps closer upon noticing a small, handwritten note that had been placed upon the first container.

In fine script, the note read:

_A'isha,_

_I have addressed this message to you as I know Amara won't be leaving the shower any time soon. Before you_ _consume_ _this meal, I believe it would be in your best interest to know that you owe me eighteen pounds exactly. I imagine you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear the doorbell._

_Yours truly,_

_M.I._

The paper crinkled as her grip tightened.  _Oh God. He did hear me talking._  Fury bubbled within her as she sourly ripped the paper to shreds, before crumpling it into a ball and launching it at the bin beside the fridge.

A'isha had turned in early that night. Partially due to her aching eyes, partially because she just wanted the day to end. She knew that Amara would've heard her roaring Marik's name; maybe even be disappointed that she and Marik didn't get on like two peas in a pod. A'isha surmised that Mar just had to suck up and deal with it.

* * *

The sound of the soft piano music that had lulled A'isha to sleep the previous night was the first indication that sleep time was over. She was motionless for a few minutes, savoring the warmth her bed offered. Groggily, she threw her sheets away from her body, sat up in her bed and threw her legs over the side. The cold immediately nipped at her skin, causing goosebumps to blanket her skin. She quickly scooped up her nearby robe and swung it over her shivering body.

When she entered the hallway, a sharp pain stung her side. "Move!" came Amara's bitter voice.

After the initial shock, A'isha eyes narrowed. No doubt Amara was angry about her fights with Marik. "Good morning to you too, Miss Sunshine," she pressed, rolling her eyes.

Amara ignored her. Instead, she stormed down the stairs.

A'isha sighed.  _What a lovely start to the day,_  she thought sourly as she swept a hand through her long, wavy locks, which were in need of a good brush.

She entered the kitchen a minute later, the intoxicating smell of pancakes tickling her nose. "Morning, Aunt Elissa." A'isha attempted a small smile; she did a pretty good job considering she was most definitely not a morning person "Those pancakes smell good."

"Why thank you, Ish," Elissa chimed, flipping a pancake with ease. "There are some pancakes fresh from the pan on that plate over there." She gestured further along the bench. "Whipped cream and syrup are in the fridge. Bananas are already sliced on the cutting board." She flashed a gentle smile. "So help yourself."

Aunt Elissa worked as a chef at one of the more popular restaurants in Alexandria, while Uncle Ahad was a sergeant in the police force. All in all, they had a generous income and were well known in the neighborhood. Because of this, A'isha found herself feeling rather jealous of Amara. She seemed to have the perfect life – which she no doubt took for granted. A'isha's, on the other hand, had recently been shattered. It really wasn't fair.

A frown curved A'isha's lips downward as her thoughts turned toward her own parents.

Her mother, Hani'ah, had been an Egyptologist, following in her parents' footsteps. Although completely Caucasian, her name had been inspired by her parents' love for Egyptian culture. It meant "of happiness and bliss". Two qualities that had captured the heart of her father, Almahdi, who had been a curator at Cairo Museum at the time. Hani'ah had quickly noticed that her artifacts weren't the only thing capturing the young man's interest, and his great sense of humor had ultimately ensured that the feeling was mutual.

A few minutes later, A'isha was happily munching away at her breakfast, which had certainly come as a pleasant surprise. Her mood suddenly soured as the slam of a door met her ears. She flinched.

"What's got Amara so upset?" Elissa asked, raising a questioning brow at her niece. "Did you two get into a fight?"

A'isha groaned. "She's just angry because Marik and I aren't BFFs yet."

Elissa laughed. "Exactly how much of an under-exaggeration is that?"

"Well we're definitely far from being best friends forever," Ish muttered. "He insulted me as soon as we met when I'd done close to nothing to him, unless calling him pretty boy when he's being stalkerish counts. Then he puts down my cooking and invades me privacy and—"

"Marik has  _had_  a lot of hardships in his life," Elissa informed. "What with his mother dying during his birth and his father dying when the boy was only ten," she continued with a grim frown. "I'm surprised he's turned out to be such an intelligent young man."

A'isha's heart sunk. "Did you say his mother died while giving birth to him?" she said a little too quickly.

"Yes," her aunt replied, seeming shocked that Ish didn't know.

"Oh my gosh," A'isha whispered, guilt sinking to the pit of her stomach.

"Terrible, isn't it?" Elissa voiced. "He truly is a nice young man."

"I'm sure he is," A'isha lied. She faked a smile, while inside she was grimacing at the guilt-driven thought that now ran through her head, refusing to be ignored.

* * *

That afternoon, A'isha subconsciously played with the change in her jacket pocket as she crossed the deserted street. She couldn't quite believe what was about to transpire…at her hands.

She hesitantly walked up the pathway that led to the Ishtar residence's front door. She gulped once she reached it. Eventually, a shaky finger pressed hard on the button that sets off the doorbell. The faint chime of a soothing Egyptian melody sung through the house.

A'isha raised a brow.  _What a strange doorbell._

Ish pursed her lips as she nervously rocked from her heel to her toes and back again, waiting. She paused when she heard the doorknob twist. The door spread open soon after to reveal an attractive woman, whose skin was a similar colour to her own. Her features were exotic and gentle; her entrancing eyes lined with a simple, yet striking flick of black kohl.

"Good day." The woman smiled and A'isha immediately knew that she was good-natured by the gentleness of her voice. "A'isha, was it?" Her smile widened. "I am Ishizu."

"Nice to meet you, Ishizu," A'isha replied with a small smile. Ishizu's warm smile made it difficult to avoid returning the expression. "I'm guessing Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad mentioned me moving here?"

"Indeed, they did." Her smile faded then as a frown took its place. "I am sorry to hear of the circumstances under which you have moved here."

"Thank you." A'isha cleared her throat. "Is this where Marik lives?"

Ishizu nodded. "Yes, he is my brother."

A'isha bit her bottom lip. "Is he, um—Is he home?" she drawled out nervously, part of her wanting to turn and run while she still had the chance.

"Actually, he bused over to the repair shop a while ago to pick up his motorcycle."

A'isha wasn't sure of whether to be relieved or disappointed. She settled on disappointed because it prolonged her anxiety at having to face the jerk.

"However, he shouldn't be long." She took a step to the side. "You are welcomed to join my brother, Odion, and I until he returns."

Uneasily, A'isha accepted the offer. She didn't want to seem rude.

She was amazed by their home. Tall mahogany shelves were adorned in delicate artifacts; the plain beige walls were covered by elaborate paintings placed in thick golden frames. The house had an ancient, mystical feel to it, and yet somehow it was very homely. The air was cool and refreshing, which A'isha considered strange because of the small, closed windows and the small, burning candles. She supposed they had air conditioning.

A'isha noticed a tall, muscular man reclining on the living room sofa. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. His skin was a few shades darker than Marik's and his hazel eyes seemed stern, although she detected gentleness lingering within their depths. Besides a long pony tail of black locks, his head was shaved.

"This is my brother, Odion," Ishizu stated. "This is A'isha. The newest addition to the Dahar family."

"It is nice to meet you, A'isha." Odion smiled. "I believe I saw you yesterday with your cousin."

A'isha laughed sheepishly at the reminder of the previous day's events. "Yeah, you were shooting hoops with Marik."

"Please make yourself comfortable." Ishizu gestured to the sofa. "Can I get you a drink?"

A'isha shook her head gently. "I'm fine, thank you."

Suddenly, a faint rumble met her ears. She froze.

"Ah," Ishizu voiced. "I believe that will be Marik!" She smiled gently at A'isha.

A'isha swallowed hard.  _I don't suppose it's too late to run home?_  she wondered, already aware of the answer. But now she wished it wasn't so.

* * *

The sound grew louder, into a powerful roar. It reminded A'isha of some hungry beast that was quickly approaching to feast on her misfortune. And providing Marik was said beast, she considered the description pretty accurate. After all, he seemed to get some creepy amusement out of her expense. Suddenly, the roaring sound of the motor dropped to a low rumble, before falling silent.

A'isha glanced at her company, wondering if they could sense her uneasiness as they suddenly seemed strangely silent. She hated the sudden silence; although she supposed it was better than the insults she'd no doubt soon receive from their brother.

Moments later she heard increasingly familiar slow, calculated steps. She cocked a brow at the whistling that accompanied the steps. She couldn't quite put her finger on the tune.

There was a pause. Then the doorknob turned and the front door gently opened. From her place upon the sofa, she could only see his shadow upon the wall in the hallway. "Ishizu, Odion," Marik shouted out, his warm tone of voice freezing A'isha in shock. He sounded completely different. The shadow trailed along the wall until its owner came into sight. "I'm…" Marik failed to finish the sentence. His lavender gaze bore right into A'isha's.

Ishizu rose from her seat as she said, "Good evening, Marik."

"Hey, sis," he replied, although his attention was hardly on her. His lips curved into a crooked half grin at his unexpected company. "Ish… What a delightful surprise."

"She came over about five minutes ago to pay you a visit."

"I see." His eyes flashed with amusement. A second later, false warmth took its place.

A'isha shuddered, put on edge by his scrutinizing gaze. She gulped.

He casually strode into the Family Room and seated himself on the arm of the couch beside her. He looked down at her. "How are you this evening, Ish?" he asked, smiling gently at her. She knew he was addressing her by her nickname to irritate her. She couldn't tell him off for calling her 'Ish' when his family was there.

Ishizu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.  _Marik is being far too nice,_  she thought pointedly.

A'isha was dumbfounded. "What?" she voiced carelessly. She'd expected to be met by harsh words. Not a friendly question. Her eyes narrowed upon realizing why he was being so friendly – his siblings were present.

She dismissed her shock long enough to answer him. "I'm…fine…" she drawled out meekly.

"That's good to hear." He flashed a smile, revealing white teeth that contrasted greatly against his dark complexion. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Uhh…" was all that left A'isha's mouth.

"Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private," he stated, encircling his hand around her wrist and almost dragging her from the room. "My room will do nicely."

Ishizu and Odion stared after them.

He dragged her up the mahogany stairs, her steps loud and clumsy as she struggled to keep up with Marik. As they trailed down the hallway, A'isha spoke. "I only wanted a quick wo—" Her words were cut short as Marik basically shoved her into his room. She stumbled into a bed, flinching when her foot bent sideways. The slam of a door made her jump.

"Y-You jerk!" A'isha hissed, crouching to rub her tender ankle. "You made me bend my foot!"

Marik ignored her complaint. Instead, he spun on his heel to face her. "Why are you here?" he spat, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Of course," A'isha hissed, her eyes narrowing to match his. "Now that the family's out of earshot you're back to being a complete and utter ass!" She glared hard at him. "Isn't that right?"

"You have yet to answer my question," he spoke, his voice suddenly calm, "so I see no need to answer yours."

"You first!" A'isha huffed.

"My question was, in fact, first and therefore  _you_ —" He lightly tapped her nose as a smirk snaked across his lips "—should prioritize it as such."

A'isha glowered at him, clearly not sharing the amusement. She turned away from him as she inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. An apology shouldn't be spoken in a bitter tone.

Her eyes scanned his bedroom. The room was spacious, but not so big that it lost its cozy atmosphere. There were two wooden cupboards, a small one to the right of his double bed and a larger one opposite his bed. Surprisingly, there were no candles in his room and the windows were a lot bigger, allowing the room to be engulfed by hoards of sunlight.

It was then that she noticed a mahogany desk that was placed beside a large rectangular window. She minutely noted that the window overlooked the road outside and had a perfect view into her bedroom on the other side of the road. That left her feeling slightly unsettled. But then something else grabbed her attention.

Silently, she passed Marik and approached his desk.

"What are you doing?" she heard him voice, emotions of curiosity and irritation laced into one as the words rolled off his tongue.

She ignored him, her attention seized by a photo frame that reminded her of the one on her bedside table. The photograph within the frame was of a middle-aged woman. A genuine smile lit up her face. The scenery behind her was of a white, sandy beach with shimmering blue water as smooth as glass.

The woman's belly was incredibly swollen. She must've been expecting anytime then. A'isha's lips curved downwards in sympathy.

A warm hand upon her shoulder snapped her from her thoughts.

"My mother," Marik voiced, his voice rid of any and all emotion.

A'isha bit her lip. "When was it taken?" she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the photograph.

He was silent for a moment; she could hear his shaky breaths. "December twenty third," he finally murmured. "My birthday."

A'isha nodded slowly as tears welled up in her eyes. She recalled the deaths of her own parents and suddenly felt somewhat less sad as she realized some weren't so lucky and never met their parents at all.

A'isha gasped slightly as Marik gripped her shoulders and gently spun her to face him. "I take it someone told you?" he whispered knowingly.

"Actually…that's why I'm here."


	5. Chapter 4: Echoes In My Mind

Marik's grip on her shoulders tightened as his body went stiff. "You're here concerning my mother's death?" he murmured softly, his lavender eyes fixed on hers. She tried to read the emotion swimming within them—sombreness, grief, even guilt.

She nodded slowly.  _Damn my hot headedness. I could've sympathised with him straight away and saved myself all this trouble but no—I had to be sad and say I didn't care!_  A'isha exhaled a breathe she'd unknowingly been holding.  _Here goes nothing…aside from my pride._

Her eyes glanced over his shoulder as she attempted to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "Elissa told me what happened to your mother," she whispered meekly. "And it criticized what I said about how you weren't plagued by the guilt of knowing that—" She paused for a moment, wondering if it would cause him grief to voice it aloud "—your parents would still be here if you'd never been." A'isha's eyes began to shimmer as a wall of tears threatened to fall. "I'm sorry for making such a horrible assumption." She remembered the frown that had curved onto his lips when she'd spoken those words. "And I know that what I said hurt you."

Marik glanced at the floor for a moment. She wondered if he was trying to hide tears that may or may not have been forming in his eyes.

"So—" She sighed deeply "—what I'm trying to say is that I'm…I'm sorry." She gulped. "I'm sorry for being so ignorant and self-absorbed. I'm sorry for saying that I don't care that you're an orphan." She bit her bottom lip, which was trembling ever so slightly. "It's hard…and I've only been one for a little over two weeks; you've been an orphan since you were ten."

Marik raised his head to gaze at her, shock ridden across his face. Her apology had been unexpected, to say the least. Of course, it wasn't that he believed what she said was not worthy of an apology. He was simply confused that she was apologising to him after his less than amicable nature towards her. She was certainly more difficult to interpret than most. "Thank you," he whispered softly.

A new thought arose then, which caused his eyes to narrow coldly.  _Perhaps her apology is simply a failed attempt at receiving an apology from me in exchange,_  he considered.  _If that is, indeed, her incentive, it has sadly fallen upon deaf ears, my dear._  He fought back a smirk.  _For toying with her emotions is far more amusing, and I don't wish to end this little game of ours before it has even begun._

In his mind, he chuckled mirthfully. But he maintained a calm exterior, until the sound of flicking pages met his ears. Only then did he realise A'isha no longer stood before him, but had seated herself on the edge of his bed, where she was casually flicking through a large book.

"What are you doing?" Marik hissed. "You're touching my things!"

A'isha smirked at the blond. "Kinda like how you touched my iPod speakers, huh?"

Marik glared at her.

She glanced back at the book. "So this is, like, a photo album?" she asked.

"What gave it away?" Marik replied with a roll of his eyes. He sat down beside her on the bed. "The photos stuck to each page?" He tapped the current page twice with an amused smirk. "Or the bold words on the cover that read 'Photo Album'?" He laughed.

A'isha snickered. "FYI, I was just trying to make small talk," she shrieked, shoving him playfully before realising who she was actually laughing with. She immediately stopped laughing then.

"Perhaps you should ask a question you don't know the answer to."

"That doesn't really help," A'isha murmured as she flicked through the pages. "I know everything." Her lips curved upwards slightly.

Marik opened his mouth to retort, but A'isha spoke up once more. "You, Odion, Ishizu and your mother are all in here," she drawled, raising her eyes to meet his, "but what about your father? He's not—"

She jumped when the book suddenly slammed shut. Her eyes fell upon the book in her lap just in time to see Marik's tanned hand rip it from her grasp.

"That's none of your concern," he snapped as his eyes suddenly narrowed to slits.

 _Woah._ A'isha blinked at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape in shock.  _What did his father do to him?!_

Before A'isha could piece together a sentence to reply with—not that she wanted to after that lash out—a soft knock seized her attention.

"Yes?" Marik almost hissed, his mood clearly soured by the mentioning of his father.

The door opened slowly to reveal Ishizu, her expression gentle with—perhaps—mild concern. Whether said concern was for A'isha or Marik was unclear.

"Dinner is ready, Marik." Her eyes turned to A'isha as she smiled. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Uhh…" was A'isha's only reply. She wasn't too thrilled at the idea of hanging out with the bipolar nut that presently sat beside her.

Marik's bitter mood suddenly evaporated, and a smile lit up his face. "How ironic. Ish and I were just talking about her staying for dinner." Marik successfully fought back a smirk as A'isha's narrowed eyes fell on him a little too quickly. "We decided that she'd  _love_  to stay!"

Ishizu's gaze went from Marik, back to A'isha. "You did?" she asked.

A'isha failed to realise that Ishizu was suspicious of Marik's words. She knew that her brother could be manipulative and that it was more than plausible that he was lying.

A'isha pursed her lips together nervously.  _That jerk off. Why does he want me to stay for dinner? To prolong the torture?_  She sighed.  _But I hate being rude, so…_

"Sure, I'll stay for dinner," A'isha stated with a forced smile. "I am quite hungry."

Ishizu nodded with a warm smile. "Very well. Our dinner is ready and waiting for us at the dinner table."

The moment Ishizu left the room, A'isha's narrowed gaze snapped toward Marik. Her eyes narrowed further upon noting the arrogant smirk he wore. "What the hell was that?" she quietly hissed through clenched teeth.

Marik raised a blond brow in false confusion. "Whatever do you mean, Ish?" he replied innocently. "I simply thought it'd be lovely for you to join my family and I for a peaceful dinner."

"Peaceful?" A'isha hissed. "Ha! That's the joke of the century!" She rose from the bed, her eyes never leaving his. His face was lit up in amusement, his lips curved into a mocking smirk as his eyes laughed at the unfortunate girl. "You're planning something!" she hissed, poking a finger into his chest. "What're you gonna do this time?" she growled. "Humiliate me in front of your family? Ridicule me? Claim I'm—"

A'isha paused as Marik suavely rose from his bed, smirk never wavering. He closed the little distance between them so that they were nose to nose. She felt his hot breath grazing her skin. He leaned closer still, his lips positioned by her ear. "Stay and find out," he whispered in an icy voice that almost sounded hypnotic.

A'isha jerked her head away from him, nerves running wild. He seemed to loom over her, eyeing her as if she were a pitiful gazelle and, he, a hungry lion; taunting his prey to the brink of insanity. She was afraid. Marik was different. And not the good kind either. "And if I don't?" she challenged, although her shaky voice was anything but challenging.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, my dear," he whispered snidely.

A'isha's eyes narrowed further. "You're not giving me the option to leave?" she hissed, although not surprised at this point.

Marik chuckled darkly. "Well, we wouldn't want to be rude, would we?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion, so unnerved by this whole new level of manipulation that she trembled. "How did you—"

"—Know your reason for staying?" Marik interjected, his mocking smirk growing wider still. "How many questions is that in that last two minutes? I'm counting eight." He laughed when she only glared. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid we lack the time to raise that number to twenty." He coolly made his way to the doorway, no doubt satisfied by the control he held over this situation. "Our dinner grows cold, my dear." His eyes laughed at her. "And we don't want to be rude." He gestured to the doorway. "Ladies first."

A'isha stormed past him and down the hallway, not bothering to wait for him.

Marik only found more amusement in that. His expression was smug as he gently closed his bedroom door behind him; however, not before throwing a leather jacket around him, the movement causing a golden object tucked under his belt to gleam for a mere moment before the jacket settled into place and hid it from view.

* * *

A'isha muttered curses under her breath as she entered the Dining Room, barely refraining from storming in there. She quickly hushed herself upon realising that Ishizu and Odion were already sitting at the dinner table and were quite possibly within earshot. She forced a smile.  _Polite, A'isha. Be polite,_  she instructed herself as she breathed in and out in a failed attempt to ease her nerves.  _It's Marik that's the crazy jerk. Ishizu and Odion have done nothing, so don't be bitter and ruin their dinner._

"Ah, A'isha," Ishizu chimed. "Take a seat." There were eight seats in total surrounding the rectangle table. She was sitting on the chair closest to the end on the far right of the table. She gestured to the chair on her left.

"Thank you." She took a step towards the seat, when rushed steps suddenly piqued her ears. Before she'd even registered it, Marik was standing before her, pulling out her chair.

"You  _are_  our guest," he stated with a warm smile.

She barely resisted the urge to scowl.  _Aww. One would almost think him sincere,_  she thought sarcastically. As his siblings were present, she concluded she had no choice but to go along with it.

She feigned flattery. "Why thank you, Marik." She placed herself in the seat. "You're very  _different_  from other guys I've met."

Marik suppressed a grin; only he understood the truth behind her words. He gently pushed her chair in before claiming the seat opposite her, beside Odion.

"Help yourself, A'isha," Ishizu insisted.

A'isha nodded with another forced smile. "Thanks." She scooped up some stew from the large crock pot placed at the centre of the table, and placed into her bowl with a soft  _plop_. It smelt awfully good.  _It looks interesting…I wonder what it's called._

"It's called Bamia. An exquisite Egyptian stew," Marik pointed out, a smug glint in his eye.

"Right…" A'isha voiced, although in her mind she shuddered.  ** _Is_** _he reading my mind?_  she wondered uneasily, eyeing the blond as he enjoyed his dinner.  _Could he even be reading it right n—?_  She froze when his eyes snapped up at her, right as she thought that.

Her eyes grew wide in fear and shock combined into one. An amused smirk curved Marik's lips upwards, but a few short moments later and it was gone.

_It's not…possible._

**_"Oh, it is possible, my dear. For me, that is._** ** _"_**  His voice suddenly rung in her mind, a hypnotic edge to his otherwise icy tone. She jumped, banging her leg against the table.

Ishizu gasped softly. "A'isha, are you alright?" she asked. Odion glanced at the panicked teenager with a worried gleam in his hazel eyes.

A'isha let loose a shaky sigh. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered. At this, Marik couldn't resist a soft snicker. "I-I just thought I…left something in the, uhh, in the oven!" She grinned sheepishly, waving her hands in a dismissive manner.

Ishizu frowned in slight disbelief, but she decided not to press the matter. "Very well…"

A'isha smiled rather awkwardly as she continued to eat her stew and, for a few moments, eerie silence enveloped the room, aside from the scraping of cutlery and the soft chewing of food. But A'isha barely noticed; her mind was too busy racing with thoughts of sheer disbelief at what was taking place.

Finally, Ishizu broke the silence. "So, A'isha," Ishizu began as she glanced at the girl, "I take it that, like Amara, you are attending Alexandria High School?"

A'isha swallowed and nodded simultaneously. "Yeah." Another forced smile. "From what I've been told, it's a respectable school."

Ishizu nodded. "Yes; most students do very well, Marik included."

"Ah," A'isha voiced, daring a glance his way. He flashed a smile. A'isha detected a smug air about him even then. "That's great."

"Are you fifteen, like Amara?" Ishizu asked curiously.

A'isha shook her head. "No, I'm sixteen. In eleventh grade."

"In that case, perhaps Marik will share some classes with you." Her eyes turned to Marik.

He barely succeeded in holding back a plotting smirk. "If that is the case, I'd be more than happy to show you around the school." His eyes held a cunning edge. "What subjects do you take?"

A'isha fought back a scowl. "Thanks." She sipped her water, before continuing to speak. "I'm taking French, English, Mathematics, Drama, Biology, History and then Dance as an after-school activity." She double checked in her head to make sure she'd listed them all.

"Any subject you favour in particular?" Ishizu asked.

A'isha nodded, finally showing a genuine smile. "Dancing! I love it!"

Ishizu grinned at A'isha's sudden enthusiasm. "I take it you're very good?"

A light blush grazed her cheeks. "Well—"

"From what I saw yesterday, I can assure you that she's a great dancer," Marik interrupted, grinning at Ish.

A'isha fought back a glare. After all, yesterday he had mockingly stated "How graceful" when she had fallen over – and she hadn't been trying.

"You haven't seen anything yet," A'isha stated somewhat proudly. "But thank you."

"You are most welcome," Marik chimed. "I'm sure you hold strengths in other subjects?"

A'isha began to chew nervously on her bottom lip. She wasn't particularly great in any of her other subjects, aside from English and French. For a moment, she was sure she'd heard an amused laugh echo in her mind. "I'm, uh, good at English and French," she finally said, suddenly finding her near empty bowl very interesting. Her hair purposefully covering her flushed cheeks.

Marik raised a brow, faking disbelief. "Nothing else?"

A'isha slowly shook her head. Her eyes suddenly ached. He was mocking her; making her feel terrible about herself,  _doubt_  herself. Her blue eyes seemed to flicker a shade darker, a frown weighing down her lips. Why did she feel a pang of self-doubt? Marik knew nothing about her. Or did he? After all, there he was. Inside her head.

Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she shook her head, her silver earrings jingling at the abrupt movement. "Not really," she whispered solemnly.

"Oh." Marik faked sympathy, but within the confinements of her mind he laughed.

 ** _"_** ** _How pathetic,_** ** _"_**  he spat, causing her to flinch. She wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to cry. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment as her eyes began to tear. She just wanted to cry so badly…to wash away the sadness that plagued her mind of her failures…of the disappointment she must be to her parents. Wherever they were. But she couldn't bare to cry in front of  _him_. And yet, why did it matter if she cried on the outside? In her mind, she was already crying. He knew it…He  _liked_  it.

 _Get out of my head, you callous jerk!_  A'isha screamed in her mind.

She heard a dark chuckle.  ** _"_** ** _Too weak to force me out of your pathetic little mind, Ish?_** ** _"_**

A'isha shook her head furiously as she suddenly rose from her seat, the legs of the chair seeming to groan as it scraped along the wooden floor. She couldn't handle this. She  _was_  too weak. And she was absolutely terrified. How was it possible for him to read her thoughts? And to speak to her within the concealments of her mind? The place that should remain just that: concealed. She growled almost inaudibly as her eyes met Marik's piercing ones. Eyes that seemed to lash right into her mind…into her soul, as if discovering her deepest desires and darkest, most embarrassing secrets.

"S-Sorry, but I…I have to go!" A'isha stuttered. She truly was sorry. Sorry for Ishizu and Odion. It wasn't their fault. None of this was their fault. And now guilt slowly nibbled away at her.

"Oh," Ishizu simply voiced, shocked by A'isha's sudden outburst.

Odion stared on with wide eyes at the distressed girl.

A'isha noticed how unsteady her breathing was and tried to better maintain it. She was trembling…so afraid. Marik could  _read_  her mind. And  _speak_  to her  _in_  her mind. How could she not be terrified?

"I truly am sorry, but I just realised—" She quickly thought up an excuse "—I have to get school stuff sorted out for tomorrow…" A'isha glanced at the analog clock on a nearby wall: 7.56 PM, "…a-and it  _is_  getting late."

"Then, please, allow me to walk you back," Marik intervened, only exasperating A'isha further.

She scowled at Marik but, after glancing at his brother and sister, she reluctantly agreed. "Thank you for the lovely dinner, Ishizu. It was yum. And it was nice to meet you both!" She waved, before almost jogging out of the room with Marik right behind her.

Marik overtook Ish to open the front door for her, smirking almost triumphantly all the while. He eyed her mockingly as she glared venomous daggers at him. She stormed at onto the patio and shivered as the night-time air mercilessly clawed at her skin.

"Well," Marik began in a satisfied tone, "that was fun." He chuckled menacingly.

A'isha grimaced at him, her cold hands diving into her coat's pockets as she began to walk along the pathway that led the sidewalk, where she would cross the road to her house. She paused, however, upon feeling cold, metal coins and silky notes against her skin. Her frown grew. "I have your money," she spat.

Marik's eyes widened in slight shock.

"What?" she hissed. "Did you  _not_  think I'd pay you back?"

Marik breathed out a sigh, shaking his head dismissively. "I thought you'd believe tonight's entertainment to be payment enough," he quipped with a smirk.

"While damn true," she spat, "I'm not that kind of person…so just take the freaking money." She shoved the change hard against his chest and he awkwardly accepted it.

A shaky, stressed sigh left A'isha's lips. "I think I can walk across the street." Her next words were laced with sarcasm, "And don't take this personally, but I'm sick to death of that mocking smirk and that little conniving laugh and…and—" A'isha huffed, clenching her eyes shut for a brief moment.

Marik only chuckled. "I shall see you in the morning." He smirked, only causing A'isha to shudder. She wasn't looking forward to school one bit. She hoped with all her being that he wouldn't be in any of her classes.

"Good. Night." she forced through clenched teeth.

A hypnotic reply echoed throughout her mind, causing her to shake once more.  ** _"Good night, my dear A'isha."_**


	6. Chapter 5: The First Day

"I'm telling you, Mar!" A'isha groaned after spitting out her toothpaste and rinsing her mouth. "He's a psychotic, manipulative, two-faced little jerk!" She glanced at Amara, who was paying more mind to applying her eye shadow than to listening to A'isha's words.

"Just listen!" she growled, examining Amara in the bathroom mirror that they stood before. "Has he ever known things that no one should? Have you ever thought that you heard a creepy laugh in your head? Have you seen—"

A'isha froze mid-sentence as a creepy laugh echoed through  _her_  mind. "Quit it!" she suddenly hissed, earning a weird look from Amara. "You've been bugging me all morning and I'm sick of it!"

"What the heck have I done other than  _ignore_  you?" Amara screeched. Only then did A'isha's cheeks begin to burn as she realized she'd spoken out loud. "What are you  _on_ , you freak?"

Another chuckle.  ** _"I agree with little Amara._** ** _"_**

 _I didn't ask for your opinion,_  A'isha hissed back. She cleared her throat as she leaned over to open the cupboard below the bathroom sink, then removed her make up bag and dumped it on the bench. As she unzipped the item and began to search for her liquid foundation, she realized Amara hadn't supplied an answer to her question. "Well  _has_  he ever known something he couldn't have known?"

Amara heaved a dramatic sigh as she applied false lashes onto her left eye. A'isha didn't know why the girl was bothering with false lashes; they were going to school for Pete's sake! All she ever wore was foundation, blush and a single coat of mascara.

"If he ever has known something he couldn't have it's called a  _coincidence_  – not mind reading!"

**_"_ ** **_See why I befriended the foolish girl? She's pathetically easy to manipulate._ ** **_"_ **

_Leave me alone, you creep!_

**_"_** ** _But the fun has barely begun,_** ** _"_**  Marik replied with a dark chuckle. She could imagine Sir Jerk-A-Lot vividly in her mind – his mocking smirk making her stomach churn in fear and frustration; eyes gleaming with amusement as they laughed down at her like she was the most pathetic thing they'd ever seen. The image only heightened her frustration. She shook her head sharply, as though the action would shake that image from her brain. Sadly, it didn't.

A growl itched at the back of her throat. "He read my mind, Amara!" she cried. "Why can't you just trust—"

"Oh my God, Ish!" Amara snapped. "Listen to yourself! Can't you see how nuts you sound?" She paused to examine herself in the mirror. She continued upon feeling satisfied with what she saw. "Why have you got it in for Marik? Like, seriously. Are you jelling or something? Cause it's not my fault that so many guys—"

"Get over yourself, Miss Vanity," she hissed before coating strawberry chap-stick across her lips.

"Get screwed, you stupid slut!" Amara snapped back.

"Look up slut in the Urban Dictionary and I assure you it won't be  _my_  name that comes up." She half-expected Amara to miss the insult.

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Oh, I'm so offended." A'isha rolled her eyes after applying a coat of mascara. But she stiffened when an irritatingly familiar voice spoke up.

 ** _"_** ** _I'm genuinely impressed,_** ** _"_**  Marik spoke up. He chortled briefly before continuing.  ** _"_** ** _Amara's description is rather accurate._** ** _"_**

 _Bite me,_  A'isha countered as she stormed out of the room, make up bag in hand. She wouldn't risk returning it to its former location beneath the bathroom cupboard; Amara wouldn't think twice before nabbing her stuff.

 ** _"_** ** _Where?_** ** _"_**  he challenged.

_Right on the ass._

**_"_ ** **_Perhaps I'll take you up on that offer when I arrive in ten minutes time._ ** **_"_ **

He laughed when she stopped, like his words had suddenly glued her feet to the floor beneath her. "What?" she voiced aloud. Despair dripped from the single word.

 ** _"_** ** _I drive little Amara to school each morning,_** ** _"_**  Marik replied with a laugh.  ** _"_** ** _I imagine you will join us. You're not familiar with the route to Alexandria High and it's quite the walk._** ** _"_**

A'isha groaned.  _Lucky me._

* * *

Ten minutes later, three precise knocks resonated through the two story house, a second's space between each one. A crazed squeal immediately followed as rushed footsteps upon the wooden floor met Ish's ears.

"Be right there!" Amara cried happily.

A'isha scoffed.  _Her obsession with Sir Jerk-A-Lot makes me wanna barf,_  she thought bitterly.  _Is she this excited every time he shows up?_

A'isha retrieved her back pack from her bedroom, hid her make up bag in a handbag in her wardrobe, and then examined herself in the full length mirror that hung from her closet door. She wore an emerald green and plum purple striped tank top with a pair of lilac skinny jeans and black converse. A long-sleeved, black cardigan completed the outfit, hiding two-week-old bruises that had faded to a dull shade of green. Her long, black hair was tied in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She nodded, silently deeming her appearance acceptable.

Ish glanced at her double bed, hardly aware of the solemn sigh that had just left her lips. She had managed to savour two—maybe three—hours of sleep last night. Twisted memories surrounding the night of her parents passing haunted her dreams. The night had drudged by so painfully slowly that she had even caught herself wishing for Marik to talk to her with his creepy mind powers, if only to steer her thoughts away from the past.

She could hear Amara squealing downstairs, presumably babbling away about something stupid to Marik, and she couldn't help but feel self-pity as she realized she'd have to endure  _that_  all the way to her new school, on top of putting up with Marik.

A'isha heaved a sigh in a failed attempt to calm her nerves. She took hesitant steps to her bedroom door and along the hallway. She paused at the top of the staircase. Marik's attention diverted to her and away from the clucky girl beside him, who was no doubt babbling on about something he cared nothing about. His eyes met hers in an instant, the ice within their lavender depths making her whole body grow cold, a shiver of fear slithering through her and freezing her feet to the floor.

A kind smile graced Marik's lips, but she could see past the false warmth it held. Not that she needed to. He unfortunately had no qualms about revealing his true nature to her anyway. "Good morning, A'isha," he greeted, the calmness of his voice filling her with unease. His eyes narrowed. "I trust you slept well?"

"Actually," A'isha drawled, resting an elbow upon the rail that separated her from the front entrance below, "I had this  _major_  headache for some strange reason." She cupped her chin into her palm in false thought. "As though someone had been messing around with my head."

She could see he was fighting back a smirk. "I'm sure you'll get used to it."

She straightened. "I'd rather they just stopped," she hissed as she began to march down the stairs. She came to a halt before her company.

Amara quirked a brow. "What are you guys going on about?"

A'isha smiled sweetly at the blond. "Yeah, Marik; what  _are_  we talking about?"

Marik laughed almost angelically. A'isha half-mindedly clenched her fists, imagining them colliding with his cheeks. Her knuckles were quickly beginning to go white. "Very well, Ish." He turned to Amara and gripped her shoulders gently. "Mar, last night A'isha came over for dinner—" His eyes flashed mischievously "—and she feels as though she has a headache from all the reading we did on our study date—"

"Study date?!" the two girls squawked simultaneously. Amara's eyes narrowed on A'isha, who wore an expression of complete and utter disbelief.

"You said you hated Marik!"

"I  _do_ ," A'isha cried, flailing her arms in the air for emphasis. "I only went over there to pay him back for the Indian food we had on Saturday night!" She mentally slapped herself at her own stupidity. Of course Marik would manipulate that opportunity to his advantage! She marched right up to him, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Why the hell would I study with  _you_!?" Her index finger prodded his chest with her final word. "School hasn't even started yet!"

Marik remained calm. "Simple. You wanted a head start, to avoid being met by confusion in any of your classes."

A'isha scoffed. "That's total bullsh—!"

Marik gently pressed a finger to her lips, clucking his tongue softly as she glowered at him. The anger bubbling within her felt so strong it made her whole body ache, and that anger seemed to raise a notch with each cluck of his tongue.

"Now now, Ish," he murmured softly, an amused chuckle slipping through his lips. "Colourful language is unnecessary." She gripped his wrist and basically ripped his finger from her lips. He only found more amusement in her short-tempered nature.

"Whatever!" Her head hurt more than ever, like someone had wrenched a screwdriver into her brain and was slowly, painfully twisting it without mercy. She silently wished she had a pillow to scream all her frustrations into. "Can we just go already?!"

* * *

"Oh my gosh! And then there's Firas!" came Amara's squealing voice. "He is  _so_  hot!"

A'isha rolled her eyes, sinking a little further into her seat with her arms folded across her chest. The headache Sir Jerk-A-Lot had so kindly gifted her with this past day was now returning, thanks to the narcissistic girl flailing about in the front passenger seat.  _The nightmares don't exactly help either,_  she thought solemnly.

"The other day Firas introduced me to all his friends and I swear they were all so into me from the moment we met!"

A'isha glared daggers at Amara.  _Maybe that's because they all know you're easy,_  she thought, wishing the girl would learn to shut up. A'isha looked at Marik, or rather the back of his head, as he was in the driver's seat directly ahead of her. Her bitter glare remained. Through the side mirror on the driver's door, she could see that his eyes were set on the road that snaked out before them, clearly focused on his driving. She wondered if he was even listening, because apart from an indifferent "Mm" every minute or so, he hadn't said a word.  _Is it weird that I actually feel sorry for Mister High and Mighty right now?_

Ish absently looked out the window at the blur of buildings, trees and pedestrians they passed by.

Really, she was rather surprised that Marik was driving so responsibly. She had expected him to speed or something, thinking himself above the road rules, seeing as he seemed like one of those selfish bad boys. At least she had him pinned half-right, for he seemed to have "selfish" down to the 'T'.

"Oh," Amara voiced, slapping her forehead as though she was an idiot; A'isha wasn't about to dispute that. "How could I forget Dani?"

A'isha straightened. Her eyes left the view that rolled past and fell on her cousin. "There's a Dani at our school?"

Amara didn't bother to glance at A'isha. Instead she inspected her nails, coated in a fresh shade of hot pink nail polish. "Yeah," she drawled nonchalantly. "Not spelt like yours though. It's spelt D.A.N.I instead of D.A.N.N.Y." A'isha became a victim of her cousin's threatening stare. "And  _don't_  get any funny ideas. This Dani's  _mine!"_

Along with every other guy that makes up the student body. A'isha frowned, a foul memory now haunting her mind. "One ex-boyfriend named Danny is enough for me," she muttered, the view beyond her window now on the receiving end of a bitter glare.

"Yeah, well, my Dani is so into me," Amara enthused, clapping her hands as she looked over at Marik.

A'isha ground her teeth, hardly aware of her nails digging into the firm material of the backseat. She'd had enough of Amara's damn boy talk!

"He's so so soooo—"

"—not nearly as annoying as you?!" A'isha burst out, her fists flying through the air for emphasis. "Seriously, I've heard enough about all these supposedly horny guys to last me a lifetime!"

"Just because no guys are into you!" Amara snapped, glaring venomously at her.

A'isha scoffed. "I know that you know what you say isn't true! Guys were interested in me back in America!" she growled, eyes narrowed on Mar. "And I couldn't care less about guys if I tried! They're all arrogant, perverse jerkwads who don't give a toss about what women think or feel!" She slammed her fist into the back of the driver's seat, hardly caring that Marik wouldn't appreciate the action.

"Hellooooo!" Amara cried out dramatically. "Marik is in the car! And last time I checked he was a guy!"

A'isha laughed dryly. "Oh I bet you checked," she spat, disdain dripping from her voice.

Amara gasped, and then opened her mouth to retort with yet another useless piece of banter. But she was quickly interrupted.

"We're. Here." Marik forced through clenched teeth, his tone of voice tense and deliberate.

A'isha looked ahead of her, at Marik's frame upon the driver's seat. She hardly succeeded in suppressing an amused smirk at what she saw. By the tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring dead ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had drained of most of their colour. Ish decided to examine him further in the side mirror. She tensed instantly. His eyes hadn't been staring ahead like she had first thought. They were staring right back at her through that same mirror, clear displeasure burning within their depths, the emotion enhanced by his furrowed brows.

Ish shuddered, immediately shying away from his daunting stare and glancing out the window instead. She realized that Marik hadn't been lying when he'd said they had arrived at their destination. She silently thanked the gods, relieved that she didn't need to spend another second with either of them, at least until the trip home this afternoon. She decided to keep her mouth shut as she pushed the car door open, not wanting to say something that would continue the argument and prolong her departure from the car. She dragged her heavy leather backpack from the seat beside her as she left the vehicle, barely resisting the urge to slam the door shut behind her. Instead, she gently clicked it shut.

In an attempt to ease her nerves, A'isha inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled. But it didn't do her much good, for the slam of a car door made her groan and roll her eyes. She didn't need visual proof to know that Amara had slammed the passenger door and stormed off without a word.

Only when the calm click of a third door met her ears did she sling the backpack over her right shoulder.

"I assumed you would storm off in a tizzy like your cousin," Marik stated, a hint of confusion and curiosity etched through his suddenly calm voice.

A'isha briefly wondered how he had regained his calm composure so quickly.

She was a little insulted that he had expected her to be anything like her narcissistic cousin; though as they had just met, she supposed it made sense to label her as another Amara. "We're nothing alike." Her next two words went unsaid.  _Not anymore._  She sighed, knowing that Marik may have heard her anyway, as he can somehow read minds.

A hearty laugh snapped A'isha from her thoughts. "Marik, my main man!" She was rather taken aback as a tall guy ran up behind Marik and wrapped a burly arm around the teen's shoulder.

The hand over the shoulder, A'isha had learned, was a guy's way of showing affection without running the risk of looking like a pansy. The male mind was a very strange thing, she decided.

"So what's up?" The guy's attention turned to A'isha, and he examined her for a moment, before revealing a charming smile. "And who's your beautiful company?"

Marik's eyes narrowed on his friend. "To you, Dani, she's off limits," he retorted almost bitterly.

A'isha noted that the guy's name was Dani—probably the guy Amara had spoken of. Then she quirked a brow at Marik's behavior. Was he being… _protective_?

"Keeping all the ladies for yourself, I see," he quipped, whacking Marik on the back.

Marik chuckled, much to A'isha's distaste. Shouldn't he be pointing out that they were  _not_  an item? She frowned. If he wasn't about to, then she'd just have to do it for him. She started to open her mouth; however, her words had ended before they had even begun when Dani spoke up first.

"I have an assignment to hand in for Phys Ed, so I'll catch you guys at class." His smile was stunning, A'isha had to admit. It brightened up his whole face. "Catch you both later!" he stated, ending the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand as he left the parking lot for the school building that loomed overhead.

Once Dani was out of earshot, A'isha turned to face Marik. "Why did you say to him that I was off limits?" she demanded, rather than asked. "I would've thought you were being genuinely protective, but  _then_  when he said that you were 'keeping all the ladies for yourself'—" Her eyes narrowed "—you didn't point out that we weren't an item."

Marik laughed wryly. "Who says I was protecting  _you_?"

A'isha scoffed, riled by his insult. The jerk barely knew her! Who did he think he was, implying that Dani needed protecting from  _her_!

Her body trembled with fury, her blood seeming to boil barely beneath her skin. She longed to silence Marik's laughter and regain at least a sliver of pride. Her grip on her backpack tightened, her knuckles quickly going white. That's when she realized—she was holding her backpack, which was full of heavy, dreary schoolbooks and stationary. She quickly formulated her plan of revenge.  _I'll hit him where it counts._  She barely suppressed a smirk.  _That'll give him something to laugh about._

With every ounce of strength A'isha had, she hurled the bag over her shoulders and towards his 'prized family jewels'.

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening and a blush grazing her cheeks, as she realized Marik had blocked the backpack before it had reached its target. Her grip on its strap tightened as she silently prayed he wouldn't snatch it up and play keep away. Her eyes trailed from her backpack to the smirking teen that still clutched it where he had stopped it mid-swing.

Marik chuckled, his grip on her bag remaining firm. "My my, A'isha," he pressed, his smirk stretching, "Day two of our little mind game and  _already_  I control you."

A'isha made an attempt to yank her bag, but his grip didn't falter. Her eyes found his. Hers gleamed with raw defiance and a sliver of fear; his with unyielding mirth and arrogance.

"You don't control me."

His smirk grew. "Whoever angers you controls you," he breathed, eyeing her closely for even the slightest change in expression. Her face showed no change, but he could see her trembling slightly, her body conceding to anger at his words.

"Let go of my bag," she forced through clenched teeth, about ready to wrap her slender fingers around his neck and start shaking him about like in the cartoons.

In one fluid motion, Marik ripped the bag from her grasp and she could tell he enjoyed the look of panic that crossed her face. The mere thought of playing keep-away for her bag was taxing.

"Give it back!" A'isha snapped, lunging for the object.

He held it out behind him and out of her reach. She sure as heck wasn't about to climb over him for the dang thing!

She stomped her foot. "Give me the damn bag!"

Marik smiled a painfully sweet smile that only raised her fury another notch. "No." That sweet smile twisted into a smug grin as he proceeded to unzip the bag's front pocket, jerking it away from A'isha as she lunged for it once more. She bitterly resorted to grimacing at him with folded arms.

Marik glanced inside the pocket, before a satisfied chortle sounded at the back of his throat. "What's this, A'isha? Perhaps your timetable?" He removed the sheet of paper and unfolded it with a simple flick of his wrist. "I stand correct. I assume your cousin acquired this for you." He caught sight of a number combination scribbled onto the top left corner. "Along with your locker number and combination.  _Perfect_."

A'isha grew uneasy at the scheming smirk he now wore. With her next words, her suspicions were sourly confirmed.

"Well, it seems that we have every single class together with the exception of Mathematics." He glanced at her. "I've completed that course, so I have that period free."

A'isha's whole body slumped. "Please tell me you're kidding and that this is your bad idea of a joke."

He shook his head thrice. "Gladly it isn't, Dear A'isha. . . Isn't this just perfect?" he taunted. "We'll certainly be best of friends!"

"Oh, how terribly special!" A'isha spat.  _Emphasis on the word 'terribly._  She actually hoped he'd heard that thought. The fresh memory of her failure to hit him below-the-belt was quickly becoming more and more disappointing. She finally managed to snatch her schoolbag from Marik while he examined her timetable.

After a deep, somewhat soothing breath, A'isha forced what she hoped was a stern expression. She stared at Marik, her bag now slung over her shoulders once again. She held out an open hand. "My timetable," she stated in forced calmness.

Marik's sweet smile returned. "No," he stated, reminding her of a disobedient child.  _His and Amara's friendship is suddenly beginning to make sense._

His laughing eyes were set on her fierce ones as he pocketed her timetable.  ** _"_** ** _I'd much rather have you rely on me, My Dear._** ** _"_**

A'isha clenched her fists, narrowly avoiding a shiver of fear that clawed up her spine. She knew he had said those words in her head to remind her that, even in her mind, he was there.

Her lips curved into a frown, though she tried to convince herself that it would do her at least a  _little_  good to permit him to show her around. She knew Amara wasn't about to and no one else was offering. And if she retrieved the school map from her bag, Marik would probably try to snatch that up too. She sighed wearily. She was already exhausted and the day had barely begun; her bad night's sleep had certainly done her no favours.

"Shall we?" Marik asked, gesturing to the school building beyond the car park.

A'isha grimaced at the blond, before a small sigh of defeat left her lips. "Let's get this over with," she muttered, allowing him to lead her to their first class of the day: French.

* * *

A'isha had found the floor incredibly interesting the moment she'd entered the building, at Marik's side. Eyes were on her wherever she went, as though she were a drag queen gaily parading through the corridors. Conversations would die as she and Marik passed, before breaking out into secretive murmurs once they were out of earshot. Ish's stomach churned as she wondered what they were all whispering. Did she even  _want_  to know? It'd probably just make her feel worse.

Marik had pointed out the Cafeteria on the way to her locker, where she took the opportunity to lighten her backpack by storing away her workbooks for Biology and History—they were her fourth and fifth period classes, so she could fetch them during her lunch break.

Ironically, her locker was only five to the left of Marik's; though A'isha had a sneaking suspicion that it was really no coincidence. First, they had all the same classes; now their lockers were merely a few feet from each other.  _It wouldn't surprise me if the desk beside his was miraculously the only free one in every class,_ she thought with a bitter huff.

Another thing A'isha had learned was that Marik is a very popular guy. She already knew that Amara was one of the most popular girls in her grade—the grade below A'isha's. She found that fact  _ridiculously_  sad! But with that fact in mind, should Marik's popularity really have been so shocking when he and Amara were 'friends'?

 _I guess not,_  she concluded.

She had also learned that Amara wasn't his only drooling fangirl, so to speak. A significant portion of the female student body had greeted Marik in a shy or flirty way, whilst shooting curious or envious glares at her. She knew she'd already made a few enemies. That thought only heightened her anxiety. Other students, both girls and guys, had at least greeted him as he'd passed them by.  _Either most of the student body is dense, or he is one hell of an actor!_

The bell would be going off in five, so Marik was merrily leading her to their first class. He had the sweetest smile plastered on his face, acting so genuine towards her while in the presence of others that —had she not known any better— she would've almost thought him sincere.

"You'll love Mister Hendricks," Marik was saying. "His method of teaching is very easy to follow and his sense of humour makes class quite pleasant."

"Makes class pleasant?" She laughed dryly. "Maybe Mister Hendricks should teach you his ways," she muttered.

 ** _"_** ** _And give you his sense of humour,_** ** _"_**  Marik returned, flashing a smirk. A second later it was gone.

A'isha rolled her eyes, trying and failing to seem unfazed by his snarky remarks. His mock sweetness was bugging her to no end, making her really appreciate her own respectable acting skills, for her acting seemed to be the only thing keeping her hot-headedness in check. Without it, she would've leapt out the nearest window long ago.

"Hey Marik!" a clique of girls called out, but this group actually approached them, much to A'isha's distaste. She subtly inched behind him, her blue eyes searching the corridor as though she were lost in thought, when in reality she was silently praying that the girls would ignore her completely and pay all mind to Mister High and Mighty. A satisfied smirk started to tug at her lips. It seemed to be working.

A moment later, A'isha straightened as she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned half a circle to be met by a striking smile; she immediately recognised it as Dani's.

"Hi there," he spoke in a deep voice. She blushed, all too aware of her weakness for deep, masculine voices.

"Uhh… Hi…"

Dani rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes dropped to the ground. She found his shyness oddly adorable. "You know I… I didn't introduce myself before, and I felt kind of rude when I realised." Her uneasiness evaporated the second his eyes met hers, revealing their sky blue hue to her. "The name's Daniel." With a warm smile, he extended a friendly hand. "But everyone calls me Dani."

"A'isha," she stated, gladly accepting his handshake. A hint of guilt etched its way into her mind. She had labelled him as another arrogant jerk because he was friends with Marik, but now he didn't seem so bad. "But you can call me Ish." She shrugged. "It's way easier to say."

He grinned. "A'isha, but I can call you Ish. Got it!"

A'isha caught herself wondering if he really did have a thing for Amara. Not for any personal reasons; he just didn't seem like the type of guy to fall for her crazy, clueless cousin. Perhaps Amara was seeing what she wanted to see, caught up in her own little fantasy world where everything revolved around her. She rolled her eyes.  _Wouldn't be the first time._

Dani raised a hand to his chin in thought. "You're Amara's cousin, right?" he asked with no preamble.

 _Here we go,_  she thought, dismissing any prior opinions she'd made of him. "If you want her number, a date or something like that, go ask her yourself," she muttered as her hands found her hips. "I am  _not_  a matchmaker."

Dani blinked twice, dumb-founded; then realisation crossed his face. "Oh no no no no! She is  _not_  my type! She's too, uhh, girly and glitzy for me."

He flashed an embarrassed smile, seeming to be fighting back more words to describe Amara. Perhaps he thought she'd become upset if he called Amara names, but she most certainly would  _not_!

"I just want to know if the rumour's true," he continued, sweeping a hand through his neatly gelled golden hair. "And I guess I was kinda trying to make conversation."

"There's a rumour going around that Amara and I are cousins?"

"You've got it, sister!"

A'isha had to laugh. She enjoyed being in the company of bubbly, humorous individuals, and he seemed to make the cut. "Yeah; the rumour's true."

"Really?" Dani burst out, eyes wide in shock.

"Our dads are brothers . . . Identical twins, in fact."

"But you look nothing alike," he insisted. "I mean, Amara is probably about five foot three. You look to be about five nine. Your face shape is completely different. Plus she has hazel eyes, while yours are dark blue."

A'isha blushed at his final words, a little flattered that he'd noticed her eye colour in such a short space of time. "Well we have the same nose," she pointed out, tapping hers gently. "Ours both even crinkle up when we smile. . . But I must say I'm impressed by your observation. I think someone deserves a gold star!"

"Fist pump!" Dani enthused while concurrently acting out his words. "That makes fifty three!" He beamed down at her like a child, baring a look of innocence that few held onto through to adulthood.

A'isha laughed wholeheartedly. It was wonderful to actually share a pleasant conversation with someone who liked to jest as much as she did.  _Minus the insults like my self-proclaimed escort._

"Having fun, I see," came a mockingly sweet and increasingly familiar voice.

 _And thinking of my self-proclaimed escort,_  A'isha thought, barely withholding a bitter glare in front of Dani. She failed to sustain a warm smile. "Quit it, Marik!" Couldn't she enjoy a pleasant conversation for just five minutes without Sir Jerk-A-Lot butting in?

Marik looked taken aback. Damn, he's good! "What—Did I-Did I do something to upset you?" He sought out her hand, making her tense. His hand was way bigger than hers, and his skin was surprisingly warm and soft in comparison to his cold and cruel personality. "I'm sorry, Ish." His thumb drew circular motions across her palm. "I want nothing more than to see you smile and laugh. As I've said in the past—" He flashed a small smile "— _your_  happiness is my own…"

A'isha blinked twice, her expression a mirror image of the one Marik had worn only moments ago, the only difference being that her shock was real. He sounded like a concerned boyfriend, offering her words of faith to help convince her that what they had was real.  _Oh, the irony…_  she thought, painfully lashing away the anger that clawed at her form, desperately begging to be succumbed to.

The blare of the school bell sounded through the corridor, hauling A'isha from her thoughts.

"Come on, Ish!" Marik insisted, lacing their hands together. She frantically wriggled her fingers in a desperate attempt to loosen his grip on her hand so she could rip it from his grasp, but he held on tight. He basically dragged her in what she assumed was the direction of their French class, leaving a wide-eyed Dani staring after them. He was no doubt under the impression that she and Marik were dating.

 _I didn't even get to say goodbye to the guy!_  She huffed, eyeing the blond that dragged her.  _Peachy… Just peachy!_

She couldn't handle much more of this. And she hoped against hope that Dani wasn't the gossiping type.


	7. Chapter 6: The First Day II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! ^_^
> 
> I just have a few notes surrounding A'isha's schooling. Firstly, I'm not familiar with Egypt's schooling (subjects, timetables, school hours, semesters, etc.), so I'm sticking to New Zealand's because it's what I know. It won't mess up the story at all or create confusion, so I don't think anyone will be bothered. I just want to save myself a lot of confusion by eliminating the risk of inaccuracies in this story. I'd probably mess something up if I tried to write by Egypt's system. I will stick to Egypt's semesters though. There are two semesters in a year, and four school terms. The first day of a school year is generally early in September.
> 
> Secondly, Alexandria High School is fictional; though there probably is a school in Alexandria with a similar name, my inspiration is not stemming from it.
> 
> Lastly, Alexandria High is an English-speaking school. There are a lot of international schools in Egypt so this is not far-fetched. A'isha's father was Arabic and A'isha does know how to speak the language, but she also speaks English because she grew up in America and her mother's first language was English. Same goes for Amara's mother, Aunt Elissa, who is British. Amara's father is A'isha's father's twin brother, so naturally he spoke Arabic as a first language. -sheds tear at having to use past tense when referring to Ish's parents-
> 
> Now onto the fun part! Enjoy chapter six of Toying With My Emotions!

The door opened at Marik's hand. "Ladies first," he coaxed with a sweet smile. A'isha ground her teeth despite her efforts to seem unfazed. That mocking smile was becoming more and more maddening each time he showed it.

"Thank you, Marik." She forced a smile of her own as she passed him by, half expecting his hand to 'slip' and send the door slamming into her, along with copious amounts of embarrassment; but she reminded herself that embarrassing her so obviously didn't seem to be his style. So far, his methods at infuriating her revealed that he enjoyed a more subtle approach, so others would think nothing of his actions…or even find them  _sweet_.

She was sure she saw a smirk tug at his lips, but if it had been there it was gone just as quickly. Her fingers twitched, begging to be curled into trembling fists manipulated by anger, but she refused to give Marik any more satisfaction. Not that it mattered. One peek at her mind and he'd know he was driving her mad…and by the second-long smirk he'd just flashed her way, he didn't even need to go  _that_  far to see she was silently fuming. His ability to read people seemed to be just as good as his ability to brass them off.

A'isha examined her French class in a desperate attempt to dismiss these thoughts. It looked like any other classroom, with lone desks lined in rows down the length of the room. Naturally, they faced the whiteboard at the front of the class. The teacher's desk was nestled away in the corner, the whiteboard on the desk's left and a window on its right. This window stretched along the length of the room, looking over the lush school field and the bustling city traffic beyond that.

She made a mental note to sit nowhere near the window. She's a dreadful daydreamer and the window would only fuel that trait. She  _had_  to concentrate… She  _had_  to work hard on her grades and make her parents proud.  _For once…_  she thought; then shook her head slightly to forget it. All it had done was sour her mood even more so.

A few computers sat untouched at the back of the class; a few shelves were beside them, neatly stacked with what she assumed were dictionaries, thesauruses and workbooks. The white walls were lined with posters baring French-to-English translations, student's presentations, and pictures of famous French landmarks.

"Monsieur Ishtar," a welcoming voice lurched A'isha from her thoughts. "And you must be Mademoiselle Dahar!" She came face-to-face with a lean man with a moustache. He had quite a few wrinkles, but his hair, though balding, was not completely grey. Ish figured he was around the age of fifty. He revealed a warm smile that she welcomed with immense enthusiasm, after being met by Marik's smirks and mock smiles all morning.

"Yes, I am." She returned the smile. "My name's A'isha."

"Mister Hendricks." He offered a friendly hand, which she shook without hesitation. "I'm thrilled to have you in my class! I was looking through the report your old school sent me and I must say I'm impressed by your grades." His smile widened. "I'm sure you'll be a pleasure to teach!"

Ish was genuinely flattered. "Thanks! French is one of my favourite subjects," she enthused.  _Because I'm actually good at it._

"Fantastique," Mister Hendricks enunciated, adopting an impressive French accent. "Voulez-vous vous présenter à la classe en français?"

He was asking her to introduce herself to the class in French. Only a few students had arrived, so she assumed she'd have to wait for the remaining students before her introduction would take place. She swallowed hard. The prospect of throwing herself in front of a bunch of strangers and risking an embarrassing screw up was daunting, to say the least. But perhaps if she made a good impression, making friends would be a little easier.

"Oui, Monsieur Hendricks."

A briefly forgotten voice met her ears. "Bonne chance, Mademoiselle Dahar." It was Marik wishing her good luck, wearing an increasingly annoying smile. She briefly imagined slapping it right off his pretty boy face and the resulting expression of shock that would cause.

But instead, she simply nodded. She reminded herself that if Mister Hendricks hadn't been beside her, she would've glared and said she didn't need his luck. Imagining wasn't nearly as satisfying as actually doing it.

A'isha watched as the infuriating  _boy_  left her side to seat himself at the back of the class beside the window, wrapping the straps of his bag around the back of his seat and pulling out his stationary. He began to scribble on a piece of paper, and it looked like he was doodling, but she couldn't quite tell from the front of the class.

"So why did you move to Egypt, Miss Dahar?"

A'isha quickly looked at her questioner instead of the blond teen. She felt a little awkward when she realised she'd been staring at Marik for more than five seconds without sending him a death glare.

"Uhh… I…" As she processed her teacher's question, a painful memory took hold. Her whole body felt numb as she succumbed to feelings of guilt and grief; two emotions that could only be forgotten for so long before they would rear their ugly heads her way. She hated feeling this way, but she tried to accept it…  _It was my fault… I deserve the pain...the guilt..._

"M-My parents…" Her voice was shaky and her eyes glistened with tears. "Th-They…"

Mister Hendricks' face showed signs of guilt, suggesting that he had found an answer amid her stutters. "I'm sorry, Miss Dahar…I didn't realise you had moved here on tragic circumstances."

"It's okay, Sir," she whispered solemnly, her eyes quickly finding the ceiling.

In Elementary School, A'isha's former best friend had ended up moving across the country, leaving A'isha feeling crushed and alone. She remembered how much her sorrow had pained her parents, so one day her father had shown her an article he'd found on the internet. It had read that looking up with your eyes alone—so without moving your head—helped to keep tears at bay. A'isha had thought the information seemed random and a little far-fetched… but these past two weeks, she had found truth in that article more times than she could count. This was one of those times, and she dearly appreciated her father's thoughtfulness in showing it to her. She found it a little funny how things that seem so trivial end up mattering  _years_  after they even happened.  _If only I'd appreciated them when it counted the most._

Without warning, her head tingled ever-so-slightly. She could only feel it if she concentrated… but when she did, it felt like a hundred pins and needles sinking into her skull, reminding her of that weird feeling she got whenever she'd sit on her foot for too long. She felt uneasy, having never experienced that feeling in her  _head_.

Swallowing hard, her blue eyes left the ceiling to be met by two piercing lavender pools. He was staring at her, his expression unreadable . . . and then it clicked. He was reading her mind right now. He  _had been_  when she'd been remembering her father's thoughtful deed.

A'isha stiffened. He'd heard her thinking that she should've appreciated them when it actually mattered...and must have just heard her realising this too. She caught herself trembling with fury and fear. How dare he invade her mind! How dare he help himself to such personal information! She couldn't bear to tell her  _family_  these things, let alone this arrogant kalet who'd without a doubt use the knowledge for his own pathetic amusement!

 _Get out of my head!_ she roared within her mind, her eyes burning into his. His eyes remained void of any expression as they dropped to the sheet of paper on his desk once more. A second later, the tingling feeling was gone. She watched him as he continued to doodle, silently shocked at his cooperation.

Then she noticed something that made her stomach sink. The only free desk was the one in front of Marik's. She ground her teeth.  _That's no coincidence._  His head was still down as he doodled, so she settled for glaring daggers at his blond head of hair. It was nowhere near as satisfying.  _What other torture does that bastard have in store for me?!_

A'isha was jolted from her bitter thoughts by Mister Hendricks. "Bonjour, students," he stated with a cheery smile. "Did everyone have a great weekend?"

There were a few  _yeah's_ and  _uh huh's_  from his students, though much to A'isha's distaste, everyone's eyes were on her as she stood sheepishly beside their teacher.

"Great! Now today we have a new student who has moved here all the way from America! I trust that you will all make her feel welcomed." He turned to face her. "Why don't you introduce yourself to us in French, Miss Dahar?"

A'isha nodded curtly as her hands sunk into her pockets, an old habit she fell back to whenever she felt nervous. Her eyes fell on her classmates, most of them watching her with intrigue. She made a mental note to avoid Marik's gaze, knowing she'd go blank if her eyes  _did_  meet his. "Bonjour tout le monde. Je m'appelle A'isha. J'ai seize ans et je suis originaire de Los Angeles, Etats-Unis. Mes hobbies sont la danse et le chant et mon plat préféré est beurré pop-corn." **

"Fantastique, A'isha," Mister Hendricks praised. His hazel eyes glanced at a brunette girl whose hand was waving in the air frantically. "It seems Khloe has a question for you."

"Uhh…Okay," A'isha said simply, flashing a small smile at the girl.

Khloe returned the smile. "Are you really Amara's cousin?" She examined A'isha. Whether she was looking her over sincerely or with negative intentions, A'isha couldn't be sure.

Ish sighed, certain she'd detest that sentence by lunch time. "Yes, I am." Hopefully this girl was a gossiper and would save A'isha the trouble of answering that question all day.

Mister Hendricks raised a brow at the rather trivial question, before gesturing to the empty seat in front of Marik. "You may sit beside Marik, as he seems to have taken on the role of showing you around the school."

A'isha heaved a sigh. As if sitting in front of Mister High and Mighty wasn't enough, the desk was right beside that cursed window too.

"I'm sure Monsieur Ishtar will be happy to help you out in this class as well," her teacher continued.

A'isha thought she caught a faint glow upon the man's forehead, but attributed it to a simple trick of the florescent lights overhead. She narrowly suppressed a begrudging look as she began to make her way to her seat.

"I'll do anything to help her get settled into the class, Monsieur Hendricks," Marik reassured, grinning eagerly as he watched her approaching form.

 _Oh, I'm sure you will,_ A'isha thought cynically as she sunk into her chair, dumping her bag on the floor beside her. She pulled out her stationary, consisting of a new exercise book, a French workbook and her pencil case. She unzipped the case and searched for her blue ballpoint pen.

"Okay, class. You know the drill. First lesson of the week we always tell a classmate how our weekend was, in French." Mister Hendricks smiled knowingly. "And don't stick to the same sentences as last week, guys."

Everyone began to chat to a friend in French, while their teacher pulled out a green marker and began to write up their next activity on the whiteboard.

A'isha felt a tap on her shoulder.  _Here we go,_  she thought with a roll of her eyes. She set down her pen and shifted in her seat to look at Marik. He wasn't even bothering to hide a smirk now, not that onlookers would find it suspicious when it looked like she and Marik were talking. He could've been smirking at something she said.

"How was your weekend, Miss Dahar?" Marik enunciated in perfect French. He even had the accent down to a T, and she found his perceptible skill at French disappointing. It would have been nice to be better than him at it, so she could turn the tables and be on the delivering end of the smugness. Not that she was saying she was  _worse_ than him. Her accent and knowledge of the French language was admirable as her third language, next to English and Arabic.

"I don't talk to imbeciles," she returned with ease.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not an imbecile, isn't it?"

A'isha faked a short laugh. "Nice joke."

Marik didn't frown like she'd hoped; in fact, his smirk grew.

"You're so predictable, Dear A'isha."

She huffed. "And you're an imbecile."

"Est-ce que la limitation de votre vocabulaire français? 'Imbecile'." He sneered. "Je pense que Monsieur Hendricks vous donne beaucoup trop de crédit."

A'isha began to piece together his words.  _Limitation…Vocabulary…Je pense means 'I think'…Beaucoup means 'a lot'…Credit is pretty obvious…_  She translated his words in seconds. 'Is that the limitation of your French vocabulary? 'Imbecile' I think Mister Hendricks gives you too much credit.' As the words sunk in, she sent a dark glare at the still-sneering teen just as Mister Hendricks spoke up.

"Okay, class. Now I would like you to individually work on the activities listed on the board."

 ** _"_** ** _It seems Mister Hendricks has saved you from further humiliation in spoken French, My Dear,_** ** _"_**  Marik stated, this time in English. He smirked, his eyes flashing deviously.  ** _"_** ** _But our conversation is far from over..._** ** _"_**

And he was right. French crept by at an agonising pace. Marik wouldn't shut up! He was constantly distracting her with his freaky mind powers, then enjoying the painfully obvious suffering his taunting triggered.

Ish had quickly learnt to avoid answering any questions Mister Hendrick's would ask the class, fearing she would go blank mid-sentence like she had only ten minutes into the lesson, all thanks to the creepy jerk behind her. Her cheeks had flushed red in an instant, burning from humiliation as all eyes had fallen on her. She must have looked  _so_   _stupid_!

Mister Hendrick's liked to ask them questions to make sure they were thinking. Oh, she was thinking…but not about work like she desperately wanted to! Oh no… She was thinking about Mister High and Mighty. He was all she  _could_  think about! Hell, how could she possibly think about anything else when his voice was continuously echoing through her mind?

The only thing that made her remotely happy at this stage was that she hadn't shouted something out by accident, like back in the bathroom with Amara that morning. Although, there was always her next class…or the one after that…or the one after that. The only class they didn't share was Mathematics, because he's already completed the course and has that period free; but she knew he'd talk to her anyway.

Her next class had been English with Missus McCaffery, a middle-aged brunette with a bright smile and colourful clothing to match. She had welcomed A'isha into her class with open arms. Ish already loved the woman and she had quickly learnt as class progressed that Missus McCaffery had a great sense of humour, cracking some jokes that were rather questionable for a school teacher but got the whole class laughing nonetheless. A'isha was sure she would've enjoyed English class if it hadn't been for the chilling voice hissing through her mind the whole lesson.

The desks in her class were arranged in twos, and funnily enough the only free seat had been the one beside Marik. The sweet smile he'd worn as she'd slumped into the seat beside him had left her shaking slightly, barely suppressing yet another bout of rage.

A'isha was beginning to think she would never make friends. Not even  _one_. She couldn't risk starting a conversation with a classmate, fearing that Marik would somehow mess it up and simply embarrass her further.

One time in English, Ish was sure a blonde girl the teacher had called Karissa was about to start a conversation. Karissa was in the seat in front of hers, and had turned to face her, a friendly smile gracing her features…but a moment later A'isha was nearly certain she had glimpsed a golden glow upon Karissa's temple, before the blonde had turned back to her desk and continued to work. A'isha had glanced at Marik after that, sure that he'd had something to do with Karissa's strange behaviour. His reaction had been to simply raise a blond brow and play dumb. And as much as she'd  _love_  to describe him as 'dumb' and have the word ring true, she knew better.

A'isha remembered passing the school office on the way to French, so she tried to use morning interval to obtain her locker number and a copy of her timetable from the office lady. One golden glow upon the woman's forehead and she was telling A'isha that the details of her timetable had mysteriously disappeared from the schools computers. A'isha knew Marik had something to do with this; those strange glows were  _not_ a trick of the light!

Of course, Marik had followed her to the office and reassured the woman that his timetable was the same as A'isha's, aside from her Maths class, which wasn't until first period tomorrow anyway. The woman had suggested that she could stick with Marik and return after school to try to sort out this "little mishap". A'isha was  _not_  impressed.

 _What the hell is your problem?!_  she snapped at the teen on her right, who was leading her to their next class. As much as she hated asking Marik this in her head, she hated the idea of passers-by thinking she was a hot-headed psycho even more.

 ** _"_** ** _I'm simply helping a fellow student settle into her new school._** ** _"_**  The underlying scorn in his voice certainly didn't go unnoticed.

 _Cut the crap, Marik!_  Her eyes narrowed on the blond.  _Why are you doing this?_

**_"_ ** **_What fun is there in a game that gives you all the answers?_ ** **_"_ **

_This isn't a damn game!_

**_"_** ** _I can assure you, Dear A'isha, that you'll have plenty of time to find your answers._** ** _"_** He chuckled when A'isha's glare strengthened a notch.  ** _"_** ** _But might I suggest that, right now, it would be more prudent of you to focus your energy on our upcoming lesson._** ** _"_**

 _Which is?_  A'isha would've hoped for Maths so she could at least not have to  _look_  at his increasingly irritating face, but Marik had already confirmed back in the office that her Maths class wasn't until first period tomorrow.

 ** _"_** ** _Why, it is the class that I've been looking forward to all day!_** ** _"_**  He revealed a charming smile, seemingly innocent to any on-lookers they passed by in the corridors.  ** _"_** ** _Drama._** ** _"_**

 _If our assignment requires a partner and I'm stuck with_ you _, I'm jumping out the nearest window and swimming back to America._

He actually straight up laughed, and for a second she wondered if it had even been  _genuine_.  ** _"_** ** _Well I would love to see you try._** ** _"_**

A'isha was silent; then,  _I wasn't joking._

He faked a sugary smile.  ** _"_** ** _Nor was I._** ** _"_**

* * *

Miss Mutton made A'isha's English teacher seem depressed in comparison. The pretty brunette, who looked to be in her late twenties, had greeted A'isha with an extraordinary amount of enthusiasm. A'isha didn't believe in destiny…but if anyone were destined to be a drama teacher, it would be this woman. Her enthusiasm had Ish thinking she would convey character emotions well and still keep the class interested.

Marik had told A'isha that this class was one of two rooms they used for drama; this one was for practical work, while the classroom merely a door to the left had desks for theory work. Twenty one students made up her drama class and they all sat cross-legged upon the wooden floor, looking up at Miss Mutton as she informed them of their first exercise.

"Today we're going to start of the lesson with some improvisation, guys!" Miss Mutton announced from upon the seat behind her desk. "Remember there are no right or wrong answers here, so to speak. We're just having fun with this." She reached inside a drawer on her right and pulled out a shoebox. "Now I've got our prompts here." She shook the box. "You'll be performing your prompts in front of the class and this  _isn't_  a monologue exercise, so you'll need a partner." She rose from her chair, shoebox in hand, and asked that one person from every duo come and claim their prompt.

 ** _"_** ** _What say you, partner?_** ** _"_**  Marik quipped, glancing sideways to smirk at her.

_Shoot me now._

**_"_ ** **_But I still need you._ ** **_"_ **

_That was sarcasm, genius._ She briefly wondered what he had meant by  _needing_  her; then remembered this 'little game' of theirs, as he so irksomely called it.

 ** _"_** ** _Genius?_** ** _"_** He chuckled within her mind. ** _"_** ** _Thank you for noticing._** ** _"_**

A'isha rolled her eyes.  _Go get the prompt,_  she almost barked, surprised when Marik complied without even one more cocky remark. He flashed a small smile at Miss Mutton, and then said something that made her chuckle, clearly still embracing his own personal act as the charming popular guy. She couldn't hear what he'd said; however, she could certainly see the second-long smirk that had revealed itself the moment he'd read their prompt.

 _Oh great._  She couldn't deny an uneasy frown.  _If that prompt has him thrilled then I'm gonna have a mental breakdown when I read it._

Marik sat down beside her a few seconds later. "You're going to love this," he stated, barely masking his delight as he handed her the prompt. A'isha remained cross-legged, while Marik had bent his legs out before him, feet firmly sited upon the cool floor as he rested his bare arms on his knees.

A'isha silently read the sliver of paper and instantly paled.

' ** _Person A_**   _owes a favour to_ ** _Person B_** _, who_ ** _A_** _hates._ ** _B_** _wants_ ** _A_** _to pose as their fiancée for a business dinner and_ ** _A_** _has to go along with it. During the dinner,_ ** _A_** _and_ ** _B_** _'s dinner company ask them about their plans for having children.'_

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me," she hissed so quietly only he could hear. Her irritation only heightened when Marik began to snicker beside her. Of course he thought this was absolutely hilarious. "Okay, seriously; shoot me now." She dropped the small piece of paper in his lap. " _Please._ "

He only continued to smirk.

"Okay," Miss Mutton shouted out over her classmates' eager chitter chattering. The class hushed after a few seconds, save for a discreet whisper or two. "Has everyone got their prompt?"

Everyone replied with their own choice of a 'yes'.

"Great! Who'd like to go first?" She smiled, examining her students, who immediately found the wooden floor very intriguing. No doubt they were avoiding her gaze in fear of her choosing them, should they make eye contact.

"A'isha and I will go first!" Marik announced, raising his hand high.

 _Of course we will,_  A'isha stated to him alone, not even remotely surprised by his willingness.

"Perfect!" Miss Mutton was clearly pleased at his enthusiasm. She gestured to the empty space behind them, at the centre of the room. "Grab any props you may need, set them up, and take the stage."

A'isha rose to her feet, fighting back a blush as all eyes fell on her—the new girl. The paranoid part of her bet that they were wondering how badly she sucked. Thankfully, she  _didn't_ ; though Marik wasn't exactly putting her in the right frame of mind for acting. She reconsidered that thought. She  _had_  been acting  _civil_  all morning…That had to count for something!

 _I'm guessing I'm Person A?_  she asked, heading towards their stage.

**_"_ ** **_Naturally._ ** **_"_ **

A'isha watched as Marik handed Miss Mutton the prompt, then passed their "stage" to approach a small bench at the far corner of the room. He picked it up effortlessly and carried it over to their stage. He set it down, then glanced at her, immediately noticing her inquisitive look.

 ** _"_** ** _We don't have a table or chairs,_** ** _"_**  he answered, ** _"_** ** _so we can sit on the floor and use the bench as a make-shift table._** ** _"_**  He sat on the floor in front of the bench, facing the class.

She followed suit.  _That's got to be the least annoying thing you've said all day,_  she told him with a faint smirk.

Marik ignored her comment. Instead, he watched Miss Mutton, leaving A'isha confused. Why hadn't they started their act yet? She was debating whether this delay was welcomed or not. She settled on 'not' because she really just wanted to get this over and done with.

Her teacher soon supplied an answer to her silent question, reading out their prompt to the class, who snickered at the mention of discussing children. Their reactions only made her blush further, leaving her appreciative of her a dark complexion.

Miss Mutton eagerly shuffled forward in her seat. "Take it away, you two!"

"You'll have to at least pay attention if you want our little act to remain convincing," Marik taunted at a whisper, though loud enough for their audience to hear him.

A'isha realised her eyes were still on Miss Mutton. She looked left to find Marik staring at her. With narrowed eyes, she glanced opposite her at the empty space she imagined their company would be sitting. Her eyes met Marik's once more. "Can you really blame me?" She folded her arms across her chest, huffing bitterly. "It's not like this 'little act' of ours is terribly  _thrilling_  for me."

"You always had a choice, A'isha." He revealed a cocky smirk. Something told her it wasn't forced. "You agreed to this little deal of ours."

"You bribed me!" she hissed, barely resisting the urge to fling her arms in the air for emphasis. If they really  _did_  have company sitting across from them, said company would no doubt notice if her arms went flying through the air.

She looked opposite her. Their company was meant to believe they were happily engaged.  _Gag._  She imagined them being absorbed in their own conversation; one that would have probably been far more pleasant than hers if it really  _was_ happening.

"How many times do I have to say the chocolate wasn't a bribe?" Any prior cockiness had left his voice.

"Save your breath," she hissed, still whispering. "I don't believe a single word that leaves that pretty boy mouth of y—!" She paused, her blue eyes snapping to the spot their imaginary company was sitting. "S-Sorry?" She paused, as though their company was speaking. "Arguing? Us? Nooooo—Well, sort of. We were just—"

"—just arguing over baby names," Marik ended.

A'isha faked a glare, though it was hardly forced. Then a look of horror crossed her face as she looked at the imaginary company across from her. "What? No! I am definitely  _not_  pregnant!" She paused again. "When do we want  _kids_?"

She and Marik glanced at one another, before the two spoke simultaneously.

"As soon as possible."

"When hell freezes over!"

A'isha looked at Marik, glaring daggers at his disturbing answer, while he only flashed a taunting smile. They heard the class giggling across the room.

 _At least they're enjoying themselves,_  A'isha thought bitterly.

Miss Mutton rose from her seat, clapping heartily, obviously pleased by their performance. The class remained cross-legged on the floor, but joined in on the clapping without hesitation.

"Fantastic acting and improvising, you two!" their teacher exclaimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "If I didn't know any better, the way you two were arguing so effortlessly, I'd say that was actually rehearsed."

A'isha rolled her eyes.  _She has no idea…_ The moment that thought had crossed her mind, she caught an amused smirk from the blond on her left.

"Now then," Miss Mutton began, chuckling quietly to herself, "who'd like to go next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough translation of A'isha's line of French: **Hello everyone. My name is A'isha. I'm sixteen and I'm from Los Angeles, America. My hobbies are dancing and singing and my favourite food is buttered popcorn.
> 
> Anywho, hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	8. Chapter 7: Amarillo

Day one of Aisha's new school and it was finally lunch time. Her self-proclaimed tour guide was at her side as they made their way to the cafeteria. He led her through the busy corridors as fellow students went about their business, heading to their regular lunch time spots or rummaging through their lockers, retrieving books for their next subjects. That reminded her...after easing her groaning stomach, she would need to fetch her History and Biology books from her own locker.

 _Only two more periods till the torture ends,_  she thought, scowling at her blond company.  _Oh wait- after that I get to deal with him during the car ride home...and when I actually get home thanks to his freaky mind powers...and then tomorrow...and the day after that...and the day after—_  She dismissed that thought upon realising how bitter she suddenly felt. Not that she didn't already...

As they approached a particularly busy crowd, A'isha felt a gentle warmth graze her fingertips. A moment later, Marik seized her hand in a firm grip, drawing her close as he weaved them both through the crowd.

She would've ripped her hand from his grasp in an instant, had she not been paranoid that she'd elbow the girl behind her in the face during the process.

And perhaps another part of her was past the point of even caring...at least enough to bother. At this point, it certainly seemed as though her pride had been outweighed by exhaustion; not only from lack of sleep, but because today's events were really beginning to take their toll.

Once they had weaved through the particularly large crowd, a dark chuckle sounded in her mind.  ** _"_** ** _What's wrong, My Dear?_** ** _"_**  His tone was lined with mock guilt.  ** _"_** ** _Don't tell me you've already succumbed to the inevitable?_** ** _"_**

She glared.  _The inevitable?_

 ** _"_** ** _The realisation that you are powerless against me._** ** _"_** **** _  
_  
A'isha was silent. She didn't even bother to roll her eyes. She refused to find truth in his words, but really…what power did she have over this whole situation? _Nothing_ , she caught herself thinking, before reminding herself that he was listening.

 ** _"_** ** _Aww…_** ** _"_**  Marik drawled, feigning compassion.  ** _"_** ** _Is this little game just too much for you to handle?_** ** _"_**

She realised he still held her hand.  _What do you think?_  she shot back, eyes narrowed to slits as she ripped her hand from his grasp.

He only smiled, throwing more fuel onto the fierce fire that burned in her brain. He was a great actor, she had to admit…just strolling along and  _smiling,_  while inwardly being a total ass! He seemed to be eyeing her, as though savouring the results of a well-done performance; the result was her unyielding fury, brought forth by his hand.

 ** _"_** ** _Regrettably, Dear A'isha,_** ** _"_** he finally continued, eyeing her with laughing eyes, ** _"_** ** _the fun has barely begun._** ** _"_**  He chuckled quietly to himself as they entered the cafeteria.

The room was bustling with hungry students, some in the line and others at tables. A group was crowded around something a few metres to the left of the entrance, which A'isha quickly recognised as a vending machine.

Marik barely acknowledged the many greetings sent his way as they zigzagged through the crowds. He perhaps offered a small smile or a curt nod here and there. She was rather relieved that he wasn't paying his classmates much mind. If he was being more open, the greeters might run over to talk to him—well, to  _them_ —and talking to desperate girls and big-headed boys didn't exactly sound appealing to her. Finally, they had reached the long line of students queuing up for their lunch and joined the line.

_How many times have you said something like 'The fun has barely begun' now? I've lost count._

**_"_** ** _You struggle that much at maths?_** ** _"_**  he countered, clearly stifling a smirk, no doubt amused by how easy she was to bait.

 _You can read minds, can't you?_   _I'm sure you already have your answer._

A small smirk showed on his lips.  ** _"_** ** _Naturally._** ** _"_**  His eyes left hers to examine the food that covered the counter.  ** _"_** ** _I must say, all this mind reading has me starved._** ** _"_**

A'isha's eyes narrowed on him.  _That wasn't even remotely funn—_  Her retort was cut short when a sharp pain stabbed at her side. She winced, her hand gripping her now-aching rib out of instinct. Her attention turned to the one responsible for the pain; a rather stocky girl who was busy shoving her way through the line.

She was at least a head taller than A'isha…and at five foot nine, Ish considered herself to be quite tall for a fully-grown female, so this girl was freakishly tall. She was paper white and garbed in gothic attire, mainly black leather garments with silver spikes. Her face was caked with dark makeup and her hair was black, short and spiky; the tips bearing a faint purple sheen beneath the cafeteria's florescent lights.

A'isha watched as the bulky girl continued to force her way to the front of the line. She despised people that use their power to intimidate and overrule others. She minutely realised that description fit the boy beside her perfectly. His power was his ability to read minds; this girl's was her bulky exterior and tough, bad-girl image. Her eyes burned with rage when a petite girl –probably Amara's age– was too slow to move, and the bulky girl thrust her aside, sending the young girl stumbling through a group of wide-eyed students, before she landed back first against the hard floor. That did it.

"Hey you—!" Ish's words were quickly cut short by a tanned hand upon her lips. Before she could process it, her back was against something solid. She soon realised that something was Marik's body.

 ** _"_** ** _Don't, A'isha!_** ** _"_** Any prior arrogance his voice possessed had been whipped away by panic.  ** _"_** ** _Amarillo isn't someone you want to bait—_** ** _"_**

 _Shut up, Marik!_  A'isha hissed, any exhaustion she'd felt had now vanished into thin air; her mind and body now driven by the desire to teach this girl some manners. With all her strength, she pulled herself from his hold.  _This cow needs to learn her place!_

A'isha sent a death glare Amarillo's way. The girl was now leaving the line with a tray full of food and a satisfied smirk upon her face. "Hey Tamarillo!" she shouted boldly.

Marik's palm met his temple.  ** _"_** ** _It's Amarillo, you fool!_** ** _"_**  he barked.  ** _"_** ** _A tamarillo is a fruit!_** ** _"_**

A'isha's breath caught in her throat.  _I—I knew that,_  she lied, fighting back a blush. She had thought the name seemed a little weird. Thankfully Marik had been the only one to hear her error over the many conversations taking place throughout the room.

"Amarillo!" she corrected, pointing a challenging finger the girl's way. She failed to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

Amarillo had just set her tray upon an empty table. She straightened, spinning on her heel to face the one who dared to address her…and in such a challenging manner.

"You talking to me?" she spat, her voice far deeper than usual for a female. She began to approach A'isha, who still stood near the back of the line. Her steps were slow and deliberate, intending for each step to strike more and more fear into her new potential punching bag. It was working.

The cafeteria had grown deathly silent, aside from a few thrilled whispers and the rushing of lunch staff, the latter no doubt scrambling off in search of help.

"Yes," A'isha replied firmly, eyes boring into Amarillo's steel grey ones. "I am."

"Oh really?" Amarillo was only a few feet from her smaller schoolmate. "And what exactly did you want?" she pressed, eyes narrowing to slits on the slightly shaking girl before her.

"What makes you think you can just barge in here and shove your way to the front of the line?" Her eyes flickered to the petite girl still cowering on the floor, tears staining her cheeks and making the skin glisten beneath the florescent lights. Her eyes met Amarillo's once more. "Why are you more important than anyone else here?" She gestured around the room. "Huh?"

If looks could kill, A'isha would be half way to the nearest morgue by now. "Everyone here is afraid of me," she growled, towering over Ish at barely an arm's length away. "You should follow their lead."

"Afraid of you?" A'isha laughed dryly. "A girl whose name rhymes with a fruit?"

Behind her, Marik narrowly avoided another face-palm. Of all the things A'isha could bait Amarillo about, it had to be the thing that peeved her off the most.

"Name it," Amarillo dared.

"What?"

"Name the fruit."

"Tamarillo."

Amarillo chortled quietly at this…and a moment later that sound had turned into a fit of near-uncontrollable laughter. "Ah…Tamarillo…" she murmured, lightly shouldering A'isha in a manner that could almost pass for  _playful_. "That's a good one."

A'isha was on edge, realising that she knew nothing about Amarillo's approach to these situations. Was this the calm before the storm?

Her answer was quickly answered when, a moment later, a fist hurled her way, heading straight for her face. Her mind went blank, eyes widening in disbelief; but a moment later, relief washed over her, spreading its warmth through her visibly trembling form. A tanned fist had wrapped around Amarillo's pale one.

"M-Marik!" Amarillo stuttered, her face growing paler than A'isha thought possible. "Wh-What are you—"

"Hitting a face as pretty as Dear A'isha's wouldn't be very nice," Marik interrupted, throwing her fist back her way. "Now would it?"

Amarillo sent a dark glare his way, then tried to shove past him towards A'isha, making Ish take a few steps back out of instinct. But Amarillo failed, and was sent stumbling into a nearby table at Marik's hand, sending trays full of food spiraling across the room and onto the floor.

"My meatloaf!" one guy had the gall to cry out. Luckily her rage wasn't set on him.

"How sweet of you, Marik," she spat as she regained her composure. "Protecting your stupid little  _girlfriend_?" She approached him and A'isha once more, the latter now hiding behind Marik, feeling an odd sense of security behind the blond boy…a feeling she refused to consider any further…along with the fact that Marik seemed to be standing almost  _protectively_  in front of her, shielding her from the fuming tank ahead that seemed to be stalking them as a lioness stalks its prey.

"Leave her alone, Amarillo."

"This doesn't concern you, Blondie," she growled, now standing before them once more. "So step aside." Despite the girl's strong demeanour, A'isha was near-certain she could detect fear swimming within her grey eyes.

His expression was firm. "I won't let you harm her."

"Step. Aside."

"Need I remind you of the last time you tested me?" A cocky smirk revealed itself when Amarillo's shivering strengthened. "There's a reason it's been six years since you did."

Amarillo's trembling was now painfully obvious, leaving A'isha wondering exactly what occurrence Marik  _was_  referring to. The bulky girl was silent as she turned on her heel, a six-year-old memory driving the action. She was met by several hundred pairs of eyes, staring on in utter disbelief. Was Amarillo really backing down? She froze, her hands suddenly curling into fists. No… She wasn't… She spun to face Marik.

"MOVE IT, YOU COCKY LITTLE BASTARD!" she roared, hurling a fist his way. He dodged it, yes… however, not before she had reached her true target.

A'isha's eyes went wide, her heart pounding, twisted by unyielding fear as Amarillo's fist lashed through the air. All too quickly, a splitting pain sliced through her head. A sharp cry left her lips. Everything spun. Her vision blurred. A voice screamed her name…a voice she knew. And before she'd even met the floor, everything faded to black.

* * *

A'isha came about slowly. The first thing she felt was the faint, repetitive pounding of her skull. The second was the blanket between her fingers. As sleep's aftereffects faded, she was sourly greeted by a more pronounced pounding skull, waves of pain shooting through her head and making her groan.

"A'isha?" a familiar voice murmured.

"Wghhh…" she mumbled groggily. The word 'what' had made more sense in her head.

"Are you awake?"

She pried her eyes apart, squinting as they adjusted to the blinding light of wherever she was.

"You are." Her vision cleared to find her squinting into a pair of familiar amethyst eyes. "It's about time."

"What?" The word had more clarity than her last attempt. She raised a brow, then wished she hadn't as her headache worsened, the pain originating at a spot on her temple. Her hand reached for the spot out of instinct. Her mood soured as her fingertips ran over a particularly large bump above her left brow. "How did—" She stopped herself, quickly recalling the events of the cafeteria.  _Th-That tank knocked me out cold!_  she realised, succumbing to dread and disbelief.  _Greaaat. Now I'm probably the talk of the school._

"You were saying?" Marik spoke up, arching a brow as he eyed her inquisitively.

A'isha leveled herself into a sitting position upon the bed she occupied, a single bed with two on her left that looked just like it. A door was opposite her bed, while a wooden shelf stood opposite the first bed on her left. Marik occupied a chair on her right, nestled away in the corner of the room. "Oh great. Don't tell me this is the sickbay and that I'm here because that crazy tank flunked out of anger management class?" she barked, fists curling at her sides, her knuckles quickly going white.

"I see your powers of perception weren't hindered by your new friend," he stirred, earning a glare from the girl. "I considered showing you this place on our little tour this morning, but it seems you managed to find it on your own anyway."

"Why do I feel like you've been sitting here in anticipation since I got here, waiting for me to wake up purely so you could say those two remarks and savour the reaction they got?"

He only smirked. Answer enough.

"Typical," she groaned.

"I must say, you're making quite an impression on your teachers and fellow classmates—picking a fight on your first day."

"Greaaat," she drawled, slumping back into her pillow; then wincing as the action riled her headache. She gingerly brushed her hand across her temple, inspecting the blow through sense of touch. Luckily her bangs would hide most of the bump from sight…and concealer would fix most of the discolouration from the bruising. At least, she  _assumed_  there was bruising. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "You blocked her." It was a statement more than a question. "How did you know?"

He reclined into his chair with a soft sigh. "Do I really need to remind you, Ish?"

"Don't call me Ish," she growled, eyes narrowing on the teen. Then realisation hit. "You read her mind, didn't you?"

"Again, your powers of perception are remarkable."

A'isha ignored the sarcasm. "You've read her mind before, haven't you?"

Marik straightened at this. "What gives you that idea?"

"I saw fear in her eyes when you interfered," she murmured, eyes dropping to the white bed sheet as she absently toyed with the fabric. "And you asked if you needed to remind her of the last time she'd tested you… You said there was a reason it had been six years since she did." Her eyes left the sheet to meet his. "So what happened six years ago?"

"Nothing that concerns you," he dismissed, flashing a glare that seemed like a defence mechanism more than anything else.

A'isha scowled. She knew pressing for information would be a lost cause. Instead, she continued with the next question that currently racked her brain. "If you won't tell me that, then at least tell me this… How  _do_  you read minds?"

A frown etched across Marik's lips as he considered her question. A moment passed and A'isha failed to notice his tanned hand slowly inching towards his backpack, slumped on the floor against one leg of his chair.

Suddenly, an acute beep sounded through a speaker fixed into the wall above him, making them both freeze. A woman's voice blared through the speaker. Her tone was brief and direct; "Marik Ishtar, can you please come to the Administration Office. I repeat, Marik Ishtar, please come to the Administration Office. "

Marik drew his hand to his side, inhaling deeply as he forced an arrogant smirk. "It seems I am required elsewhere." He eased out a sigh of relief as, in one fluid motion, he swept up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. He approached the door coolly; however, A'isha's next words made him freeze, if only for a moment.

"You're avoiding my question."

Marik's eyes narrowed as he turned to face her, his expression twisted into one of mock kindness—his specialty. "I'll check up on you later, Ish," he reassured her with that increasingly annoying sweet smile, "But right now, my presence is required elsewhere."

With that said, Marik left her to stew over both his words and his mock kindness, relieved that the speaker had interrupted them. Had he really been about to expose the item that granted him this power? If she knew how this was all possible, this wouldn't be nearly as fun…not at this stage anyway. No, he'd rather keep her guessing...and fussing over how such a feat was even possible. He did plan to tell her eventually; however, this was only day three of their little game.

Five minutes later found Marik calmly entering the school office for the second time that day; the first had been with A'isha, who had desperately sought out a copy of her timetable. He barely withheld a smirk, recalling the disappointment that had swept across her face when the woman had said the information was nowhere to be found.

His eyes fell upon a young woman behind a large desk. "Mister Ishtar," she addressed, the worry in her tone evident upon her face. "I heard you were in a fight."

As he came to a standstill before her desk, he let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Actually, Miss Dewberry, it was more along the lines of helping out a friend."

The woman smiled. "Now that makes more sense."

He returned the smile. "She's in the sickbay recovering. Amarillo did quite a number on her."

"Oh dear," Miss Dewberry cried as a hand covered her mouth. "Getting into a fight with Amarillo is basically like  _asking_  for fifty stitches."

Marik nodded curtly. "I agree," he murmured, his words strewn with mock worry.

"Best wishes to your friend."

"I'll tell her," he lied.

Miss Dewberry nodded, and then spun on her office chair to gesture to a door on her right that read 'Academic Advisor – Mister Vallis' in big, bold letters. "Now then, I believe Mister Vallis wants to see you.

"Very well. Thank you, Miss Dewberry." With those words done and dusted, Marik coolly made his way to Mister Vallis' door, not at all deterred by whatever laid beyond it. If he was in trouble for the scuffle in the cafeteria, it was nothing a little… _persuasion_ …couldn't fix.

Marik stopped at the door, proceeding to knock thrice upon its mahogany surface.

"Come in," a warm voice welcomed.

He complied, reaching for the silver doorknob and easing the door aside. His false smile returned right as the door parted to reveal his tanned face to Mister Vallis, seated behind a desk across the room.

"Ah, Mister Ishtar." The advisor smiled up at him, setting down his piping hot cup of coffee. Steam floated up from the beverage; then faded into nothing as it was greedily absorbed by the atmosphere. "I hadn't expected you so quickly." He gestured to the seat across from him, the desk separating the two objects. "I assumed that with your girlfriend in the sick bay, you would take your time." Marik stifled a smirk at the way he'd addressed A'isha—'your  _girlfriend_ '. That rumour was spreading even quicker than he'd first anticipated. He barely resisted a chuckle...Ish was sure to lose it when she found out.

Marik showed a smile in place of a smirk. "I would have stayed longer, but I'm certain that Ish is in great hands, Sir." He threaded his fingers, then set his elbows upon the older man's desk. His chin rested upon his knuckles as he continued, "I doubt my sister would be pleased if I neglected a meeting concerning my education."

Mister Vallis nodded. "Well let's get right down to it then." He reached out for his computer mouse. "Because you have passed our highest Maths class with such respectable marks, you should have that period free." The soft clicks of the mouse met Marik's ears as the man sought out something on the computer. Marik couldn't see the screen. "The problem is that at this school free periods are not, under any circumstances, permitted for an eleventh grader."

"You're wanting to offer an alternative?" Marik asked with an inquisitive raise of his brow.

"Yes, Marik, I do." He straightened in his office chair. "How would you feel about taking on the role of a teacher aid in one of the two lower math classes of your grade level?" He smiled, thrilled to have such an intelligent student here at Alexandria High; this was the first time he'd made an offer like this to a student. "I know Mister Newton or Missus Smith would be thrilled to have your assistance at hand."

Marik succeeded in suppressing a scheming smirk. "I'd love an opportunity such as this." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his visage. "Though perhaps I could assist a higher class?" He already knew the answer to that question. That knowledge made his eyes narrow.  _But that's where my skills at persuasion come into effect._

Mister Vallis frowned as confusion chiselled its way into his mind. "But Mister Ishtar, why would you want to assist those in a higher class when there are clearly students who struggle far more in the subject? They would better benefi—"

With no preamble, Mister Vallis' words ceased, his eyes suddenly void of any and all expression as an eerie eye emerged upon his temple, glowing menacingly against his tanned skin.

A menacing smirk snaked across Marik's lips. "You were saying,  _Sir_?" His smirk grew as the title rolled off his tongue.

Mister Vallis' voice was almost mechanical, drained of all emotion as he spoke; "What class do you suggest, Mister Ishtar?"

"Class C would be just… _perfect_."


	9. Chapter 8: Haunted By The Past

Marik stifled a satisfied smirk as he left Mister Vallis' office. He hadn't anticipated the offer to undertake the role of a Maths teacher aid, but he welcomed it regardless. He had decided on goading Dear A'isha from the library during his free period, but now that a far simpler and more appealing alternative had been handed to him so seamlessly, he needn't waste his energy.

He remembered his prior promise to check up on Ish later, when he had left her maybe fifteen minutes ago.  _I guess I'll be seeing her even sooner than I thought._ A small smirk flirted across his lips as he past Miss Dewberry's desk, heading towards the exit.  _I'm sure she'll be absolutely thrill—_

An abrupt noise seized his attention. He glanced over his shoulder. Amarillo had slammed a door shut behind her and stormed out into the admin office. The door was two to the left of Mister Vallis'—the principal's office. Amethyst met steel grey, and the girl froze merely five feet from him.

 ** _"I_** ** _s that fear I see in your eyes?_** ** _"_**  Marik taunted, satisfied upon seeing her stiffen.  ** _"_** ** _I see memory serves you well, Tamarillo._** ** _"_**

She directed no thoughts his way…not even concerning his mockery of her name…but he could hear her mind racing, replaying a six-year-old memory that made her tremble. The memory stirred a myriad of feelings in his mind too; feelings of loneliness, self-pity, helplessness and rage...feelings swept away by newly found power, satisfaction and deranged delight. Amarillo finally sent a thought his way, lurching him back to the present.

_Y-You still have that th-thing…_

Marik ignored the statement.  ** _"_** ** _I recall stating that the next time you crossed me, I would not be so lenient._** ** _"_**  His smirk grew.  ** _"_** ** _Fortunately you've caught me on a good day._** ** _"_**  His visage became serious.  ** _"_** ** _But next time you will not be so fortunate._** ** _"_**

Amarillo was silent for a moment, fearfully processing his words, then;  _That new girl… Wh-What are you doing to her?_

His eyes narrowed dangerously.  ** _"_** ** _Nothing that concerns you._** ** _"_**  With that, Marik calmly swept through the exit and out into a corridor. Fourth period had clearly come and gone, as the corridor was no longer empty; but bustling with students that passed him by, chattering animatedly amongst themselves as they headed to their fifth and final subject of the day. Marik headed in the direction of the sickbay; he knew he could avoid History with ease, just as he'd avoided Bio—

A sudden vibration in his pants pocket made him straighten. That had certainly been unexpected; he rarely left his phone switched on during class, even on silent. Perhaps he'd forgotten the daily ritual amidst all the excitement of messing with Dear Little Ish.

He coolly withdrew the device, a sleek iPhone securely placed in a dark purple case; his favourite colour.  _A text from Elissa...Perhaps she's concerned for her dear niece…_  He chuckled to himself, ignoring greetings from classmates that passed him by, as he opened the text with a single swipe of his finger across the screen.

_'Good afternoon, Marik. Elissa here. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but as Ahad and I are both working late tonight, I was hoping you could look after A'isha at your house tonight. Ahad should be home around eight. I've asked Amara to get a ride home with one of her friends. I would ask your brother or sister, but of course you know they're working too and I don't want to interrupt. Ahad and I would really appreciate it! :)'_

A grin plastered itself on his face. Things were really in his favour today. He swiftly typed up his reply:

_'Hello, Elissa. I'd be happy to help. You can work assured that your niece is in excellent hands. M.I.'_

Marik chortled softly.  _Excellent hands, indeed._

* * *

Marik had left no more than twenty minutes ago and now A'isha could hear a heap of conversations all mingling into one perhaps a few walls away from the room she occupied.  _I wonder how long I was out for… Are students going home or to their next class?_ She pursed her lips. It was safe to assume she'd missed fourth period, and she should've been pleased, but really it only soured her mood further. Missing Biology today just meant she'd have more work to catch up on…plus her classmates would no doubt think Amarillo had done such a number on her that she couldn't even make it to her next class. The truth to that thought only made her feel worse.

A'isha sighed, realising her hold on the ice pack pressed to her forehead had wavered slightly. She remedied that quickly, pressing it harder against the bump. The school nurse had said she had a slight concussion, but nothing that time and a few early nights couldn't fix. A'isha should've been pleased, but she found her bitter side wishing that she'd needed stitches or something so that Amarillo's punishment would be that much more severe. "I hope that nutcase gets suspended," she hissed under her breath, glaring daggers at the door opposite her bed as she wondered how in the world the loon hadn't been already.

 _The pain will be worth it if that nut_ does _get suspended,_  she thought with a sly smirk. The expression left instantly as an image of Marik's mocking smirk flashed through her mind. Thinking of Mister High and Mighty, A'isha mulled over whether or not Marik would really return to check up on her. She hoped not. Her headache was bad enough without that jerk around…and she was really appreciating actually having her mind all to herself.

A'isha was drawn from her thoughts by the door easing open ahead of her. A meek girl who looked to be about her age slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind her as she sent a warm smile A'isha's way. She returned the smile as she examined the brunette curiously; she didn't look ill or injured… What was she doing here?

The girl's hair was straight and drawn back into a ponytail. A few freckles were splashed across the bridge of her nose, the flecks only enhanced by her pale complexion. She was clothed in a navy blue skirt that brushed against her ankles, along with a white tank top that read 'Miss Naughty' in bold, blue letters. Her outfit was completed with a sleeveless blue cardigan and black, leather slip-on shoes.

"Hello there," A'isha greeted, watching as the girl slipped into the seat that Marik had earlier occupied. She placed her bag beneath the seat, and then looked up at A'isha through a pair of metallic purple glasses.

"Hi," she replied, revealing a friendly smile.

For a long moment, all was silent, save for the crinkling of plastic as A'isha adjusted the ice pack against her head.

The girl finally spoke up; "You're very brave…"

A'isha blinked twice. "Why?" she blurted out. "Because I stood up to that tank?"

The girl snickered behind her hand. "Well that's a new name for the lovely Tamarillo!" Her smile didn't waver as she continued, "And yes, I was referring to the cafeteria incident."

A'isha sighed. "Well I don't feel so brave now… More along the lines of foolish." She laughed, though there was no real joy to the sound. "I'm A'isha, by the way." She forced a small smile. "But you can call me Ish. It's way easier."

"I'm Juliette Lilly Anne Hughes." The girl raised a friendly hand, which A'isha took without qualms, shaking it thrice before her hand returned to absently toy with the bed sheet. "F.Y.I., Lilly Anne  _isn't_ my middle name." She smiled. "I go by Julie though."

A'isha flashed a genuine smile. "Do I even  _want_  to know your middle name?"

"Correction; middle  _names_." She chuckled. "And no, you really don't wanna know. Even  _I_  still get mixed up."

A'isha beamed at Julie, the girl's presence alone filling her with joy and relief. Someone actually wanted to talk to her…and Marik isn't around to screw things up!

"Anyway," Julie began, taking on a more serious tone, "how are you holding up?"

A'isha chewed on her bottom lip. "Does… _everyone_ know about the cafeteria incident?" She felt she already knew the answer.

Julie suddenly found the floor very interesting. "…Well…"

A'isha stiffened, a look of horror twisting her features. "Noooo," she moaned, dropping the ice pack only to grip her head in despair, shaking it furiously. "Oh no no no no  _no_!" Her eyes met Julie's, compassion swimming within the brunette girl's chocolate brown orbs. "Please tell me you're kidding?"

"Sorry," Julie breathed, guilt underlying her tone. "I'm not one to lie."

A'isha groaned, self-pity etching its way into her brain…but Julie shouldn't apologise…and she didn't deserve to hear A'isha's impending rant about how miserable her life felt at this moment in time: Marik hounding her in her mind; Amarillo knocking her out cold; Amara being an absolute cow; her parents' untimely passing; and…and—

A'isha shook her head frantically, using every ounce of self-control she possessed to stifle tears that threatened to show, pounding against her eyes and heightening the pain of her ever-growing headache. She couldn't think about that night; yet how could she think about anything else?

She missed them so much. She missed her father's goofy personality, always eager to make her laugh, even if he looked like a complete moron in the process…and yet he'd always been there to offer kind words and remind her of the faith he had in his only child. She missed her mother's free spirit and caring nature…she always knew what to say to ease A'isha's nerves, reminding her that there was a silver lining around every corner…that everything happened for a reason… Her hands curled into fists at her sides, trembling ever so slightly. If everything happened for a reason, then what had her parents possibly done to deserve such an untimely demise? What reason could possibly justify snatching such warm and gentle spirits from this life?

A warmth upon her fist snapped A'isha from her thoughts. Her eyes dropped to her hand to find Julie's resting on top of it. "Hey…" Julie drawled, genuine concern in her tone. "Are you okay?"

A'isha's lip quivered, but she refused to let her grief show in the form of tears…not at school…and not with someone else around. "I…I'm fine," she murmured solemnly.

Julie didn't look convinced, but she didn't press it. After all, the girl barely knew her. "Okay…" She suddenly perked up, perhaps hoping she'd thought of a way to cheer A'isha up. "You know…I think Marik likes you!" she stated animatedly, grinning over at the now bug-eyed girl.

"Wh-What?" A'isha stuttered, her eyebrows half way up her temple. "Ha! What gave you  _that_ idea?" she shrieked, showing a look that was somewhere between horror and hilarity. "Marik  _hates_  me!"

"Are you  _sure_?" Julie's grin grew. "Because when you were knocked out he was  _really_ worried…"

A'isha barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He would've been acting, of course… embracing the role of the panicking friend, fretting like mad over his new friend's well-being.

Julie continued; "When Amarillo knocked you out, Marik screamed your name."

Shock flashed across A'isha's face for a split-second… She  _did_  remember someone shouting her name, merely seconds before she'd fallen unconscious. It…had been  _Marik_.

"And after Amarillo marched off all smugly, he just stood there and stared at you for about ten seconds. Then he finally sprinted to your side, shooing away the crowd that had formed around you and demanding that they give you some space." Julie's grin was now stretched from ear-to-ear. "Then he picked you up and carried you here." She squealed at the mere memory, no doubt believing Marik's reaction to be absolutely adorable. "Trust me when I say he was soooo darn sweet."

A'isha laughed, sounding drier than two week old toast. "Julie…  _'sweet'_  cannot be used in the same sentence as  _'Marik'_  unless the word  _'isn't'_  is in between them." And yet, why did she find herself wishing Marik's actions  _had_ held some sincerity.  _Of course I want him to be nice to me,_  she reasoned, then dismissed the ridiculous thought.

Julie shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay… You don't have to believe me." Her words held no spite. Only calm acceptance. "Anyway, I'm gonna have to leave you now." She flashed a sheepish grin as she scooped up her bag and scurried over to the exit. "I'm kinda late for band and I'm the trumpet lead."

A'isha's eyes went wide. Had Julie risked getting in trouble with her teacher for being tardy  _just_ to visit a total stranger? She smiled, flattered by the gesture. Julie had the potential to be a well-valued friend. "Okay then," she replied. "Thank you for visiting me. I feel  _a lot_  better." And though those words were true, she still felt miserable. "I…I guess I'll be seeing you around?"

Julie nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely!" She waved as she opened the door a fraction. "It was nice to meet you!"

"Right back at you," A'isha returned, returning the friendly wave.

She watched as the girl slid through the exit, not bothering to open the door entirely as she did. She paid little mind to the meek, "Oh, excuse me," that met her ears as the girl left her sight. She assumed it was the nurse returning to check up on her. That is, until an unmistakable voice replied, "Of course, Julie."

 _So he wasn't lying,_ A'isha thought, huffing as she slumped against the bed frame, arms across her chest. The thought had barely presented itself when Sir Jerk-A-Lot appeared. The first thing she noticed was the thrilled smirk he wore.  _This can't be good,_  she surmised, already dreading his impending words.

"What's with that look?" Marik pouted. "Aren't you happy to see me, My Dear Ish?"

"Why are you here?" she barked. After such a civil conversation with Julie, she'd forgotten how tiring it was to force a glare.

Marik's mock pout was swept away by another strenuous smirk. "Well, My Dear," he began, reclaiming his former seat in the corner, still warm from its previous occupant, "I'm pleased to tell you that, as you're concussed and unfit for class, I've been permitted the pleasure of driving you home."

A'isha slumped against the bed frame even more, if that was possible. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, her body growing rigid with fear. Her next words were barely given voice, muttered bitterly under her breath, "Soon I won't be the only one with a concussion…" It was a miserable attempt at avoiding the terror that had suddenly gripped her without even a sliver of mercy. Sure, she'd been alone with Marik in his room yesterday, having gone over to apologise for that ignorant comment…but now that she knew what he was capable of, the thought of being alone with the creep was terrifying. She knew nothing about him or how severely he was willing to torture her.

"There is no way in hell I'm going  _anywhere_  with the likes of  _you_!" she hissed, her head now aching more than ever thanks to the strain that now weighed down her trembling form. She rubbed the ache behind her ear; then straightened when rushed footsteps sounded nearby.

"Is everything okay, Miss Dahar?" a gentle voice intervened, making A'isha glance up at the doorway. The nurse, a middle-aged woman, was peering around the door, concern etched across her face as she examined the two teenagers before her. "Is Mister Ishtar bothering you?" she asked, sending a pointed look his way.

A'isha noticed the look the nurse was giving him. Oh, she liked this woman.

"Everything is fine, Miss Everett," Marik reassured her, flashing a charming smile the woman's way. A smile that really made Ish's blood boil.

Miss Everett was unfazed by his charm. "That question was directed at A'isha, Mister Ishtar."

"Miss Everett," he began calmly, hiding his frustration well, "A'isha's caregivers have asked me to take care of her in their place, because they—"

"I'm sorry, Mister Ishtar," she interrupted with a frown, failing to notice the teen's eyes narrow as a silent response. "But as school policy states, only a parent or legal guardian may withdraw a student from—" She stopped mid-sentence, her blue eyes glazing over as a mysterious eye glowed upon her tanned temple, concealed behind her fringe.

"Go on, Miss Everett…" Marik murmured, offering a clueless expression that many would describe as cute.

Miss Everett's voice was grated as she continued, "You have been instructed to take care of her by her caregivers?"

"I have."

A'isha looked over the woman in clear confusion. This didn't make any sense… The nurse had just been acting suspicious of him and now she was suddenly considering throwing A'isha into his creepy little clutches…not to mention her voice was suddenly eerily different. Was there more to his inexplicable mind powers than what she'd already witnessed?

"Then I'll happily sign Miss Dahar out right now."

* * *

Marik smirked triumphantly as he swept down the steps that extended from the school building to the car park. A'isha's sulky stomps sounding behind him confirmed that she was close in tow. An outraged growl met his ears, only amusing him further.

A'isha remembered Julie's statement back in the sickbay—'I think Marik likes you!' The idea was quickly beginning to make sense…that is, if he was one of those immature little boys that annoyed the snot outta the girl they liked…though with that in mind, acting like  _this_  was  _way_ beyond the norm for a guy crushing on a girl. He was reading and talking to her in her mind, not to mention he'd treated her this way from the moment they'd met. He'd had no  _time_ to crush on her. No…his intentions must've been purely one dimensional; a mind-warped freak who got some sort of sick satisfaction out of another's suffering.  _He's just a maniacal sadist._

"What the hell is your problem?" A'isha growled, quickening her pace to keep up with him. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, silently waiting for her to catch up. "Why do you find me so freaking interesting, huh?" she barked, shoving him once, unsatisfied when he barely budged. "You-You perverted freak of nature!" She flung her arms left and right, further stressing her frustration through her body. "Why do you get such sick enjoyment out of torturing a girl you barely even know? I've done absolutely  _nothing_  to you!"

Marik raised a brow in obvious amusement. "You think I'm a pervert?" A laugh followed the question.

"Yes!" she shrieked, launching her arms in the air for added emphasis. "You pervert situations to suit your perverted desire, which apparently is  _torturing_  me! So YES, congratulations, you've officially been dubbed a PERVERT!"

He revealed a mad smile, only infuriating her ten-fold. "The definition of the word pervert has many variations. It can be used to describe a person who leads another astray, misdirects one from what is just, or corrupts the victim's feeble mind in any way, shape or form. As a noun, it refers to an individual whose sexual behaviour is abnormal or unacceptable." His mad smile stretched. "With those definitions in mind; yes, perhaps I am a pervert…provided you are excluding the noun's definition, that is."

"Thanks for the English lesson, Professor," she muttered, folding her arms, "Oh, and I wouldn't be so sure about excluding the noun's definition."

Marik's eyes narrowed dangerously on her. She froze, unease seizing her within its unyielding grasp as he coolly closed the little distance between them. His hot breath fanned across her face, making her shudder. That unease warped into sheer panic when his arm encircled her waist. She placed her trembling hands between them, pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to free herself, but his hold was as definite as her fear.

"Th-This is only proving me right!" The words held far less authority than she'd hoped for.

Marik smirked at her…seeming as though he were looming over her shaking form despite the fact he was maybe an inch taller than her, if that. "My Dear A'isha," he breathed, "I have an idea in mind that would earn me a title far more extreme than that of a pervert."

A'isha stiffened as his words sunk in, paling at the implication. Her trembling was uncontrollable. "You…You wouldn't…" she breathed, the words barely given voice.

A'isha sucked in a gasp as Marik gripped her shoulders, shoving her against the nearest car and holding her there. If her voice hadn't been painfully lodged in her throat by despair, her memory set two weeks in the past, she would've surely screamed out by now, desperate to be free of this madman and his crazy mind games.

A'isha shook her head violently in a useless attempt to banish the sinister memories. The shaky wall that was her pride came crashing down, succumbing to unbearable anguish. "P-Please," she whimpered. " _Please stop…_ "

His smirk vanished as confusion replaced arrogance. He hadn't expected her to become so submissive…at least not this quickly. It was like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

A'isha failed to notice a dull glow peek through the material of Marik's backpack. His eyes went wide, his grip ceasing entirely as he slowly backed away from the still-shaking girl. His expression was unreadable as he drew in a deep breath. He proceeded to turn on his heel, the movement stiff...nothing like she'd seen before from the teen. Since they'd met, he'd always moved so suavely, so seamlessly. "Come on, A'isha," he murmured softly…gently even. "Let's get you home."


	10. Chapter 9: His Sanctuary

The car ride home was painful, to say the least. She had basically stumbled into the front passenger seat, humiliated that she couldn't steady her shaking... And the idea of Marik thinking he was the reason for her present, pathetic state only made her feel worse.

Her eyes were fixed on the dashboard, though she was hardly focused on its rutted surface. Her thoughts were five minutes in the past, the fresh memories washing dread over her like a chilling arctic sea. Why had he backed off so suddenly? She hadn't expected him to  _actually_   _listen_  when she'd humiliated herself further by whimpering for him to stop. No doubt he'd expected some form of fierce defiance, and at any other time she would've delivered just that. But pinning her against that car and- Her eyes went wide. If he'd expected defiance, her terror would have sparked questions in his mind, leading him to search  _her_ mind for answers and find— She sucked in air, her dread swelling along with her shaking.

_He knows…_

It was the most logical explanation, miles ahead of her second: the latter being that he'd suddenly had a guilt-driven change of heart, realised he was a sick, twisted, deranged psychopath and backed off as guilt consumed him and— Yeah, the first explanation made a lot more sense.

She glanced to her left at Marik. His eyes were set on the road ahead.  _No smug look for once?_  she wondered, somehow finding the absence of his smirk unsettling. He actually looked pensive, lost in thoughts she'd probably never know. It wasn't fair! He somehow had the means to find out her every thought, and all she could do was take a gander at how he  _felt_  purely by his expressions! She minutely wished that she could read  _his_  mind, if only to find out what he really  _did_  know.

Overwhelming memories clung to her brain, refusing to yield to the recesses of her mind like they somehow had almost all day. Suddenly, her lips began to curl into a pitiful pout as she tried and failed to force back the tears welling up in her eyes. Though Marik was driving, she quickly directed her face away from his peripheral vision and towards the window beside her. There was no way she'd let him see her looking so pitiful.

The teen girl swallowed, the action failing to wash away the stubborn lump in her throat. He had to be the worst person on the face of the planet know about that night! He already saw her as a pathetic, weak-minded, ignorant little girl…How did he see her now? She could try to convince herself that his opinions didn't matter, but she couldn't shake away her worry that he'd manipulate his newly-found knowledge to his advantage.

_It was all my fault… This is the least I deserve…_

Her own mind sounded foreign to her. She was always stubborn and never submissive...always fixed on staying strong and never tolerating someone's crap! It was then that she realised how much the events of her birthday had really changed her. It was as though life had thrust a mask her way, delicate like china, constructed of false confidence, stubbornness and spirit that – when under enough strain – cracked into a million tiny pieces, revealing the frightened little girl seeking sanctuary behind the mask. She ground her teeth, wrestling with her mind over her desperate desire to think no more of this.

Marik switched on the radio, briefly seizing her attention. Admittedly, the sound of  _Royals_  playing through the radio eased her a little.

The remaining five minutes spent driving home were surprisingly silent… no mind-speaking, no taunting, not even a smirk from Sir Jerk-A-Lot. If anything, A'isha thought he looked solemn now, as though recalling a particularly grave memory.

He turned into his driveway, opposite the place she now called home, and shut off the quietly rumbling engine, allowing silence to encase the vehicle within its eerie embrace. She watched him, thankful that her tears had now subsided. He was still and silent, his sight set on the garage door ahead, though she doubted he was truly  _looking_  it. What was he thinking?

Finally, he showed movement, his left hand reaching for his right shoulder. His eyes didn't leave the garage door ahead as he traced his fingertips across the bare skin of his shoulder, and for a split second she caught sight of a scar. It looked stretched… Like he had grown a fair bit since the day he got it. Was he remembering that day? Was that why he'd said nothing this whole car ride?

His eyes finally moved to meet hers. "I failed to mention this earlier," he began, surprisingly without a hint of arrogance in his voice…if anything, it was half-hearted, "but your aunt has tasked me with caring for you until Ahad gets home tonight."

A'isha straightened in her seat. "I'd rather march into Amarillo's house wearing a neon shirt that reads 'Tamarillo's A Psychopath'."

Marik smiled… and a small part of her thought it looked genuine. "As much as I'd love to see that, I imagine Elissa would not be too thrilled if she got home to find her niece in pieces."

That smile curled into his trademark smirk.  _I knew it couldn't stay away for long..._

"And I wasn't lying when I told your aunt that you're in excellent hands," he continued. "I imagine leaving you at Amarillo's mercy would go against that statement."

A'isha rolled her eyes. "Really, you'd just prefer me to be at your mercy. Not Amarillo's."

"If you would prefer to be in Amarillo's company, she  _does_  only live two houses down from your own," he baited.

"I hope you're kidding."

"Regrettably, I'm not." His words dripped with sarcasm.

"So living within half a mile of  _one_  psychopath isn't enough?"

He said nothing, and she caught herself wishing he would… Did she actually  _enjoy_ their banter? Or did she just hate the silence? She went with the second reason, dismissing the first as absolutely ridiculous. These "discussions" were stressful, if anything, and she already had stress flooding from her ears as it was. She sighed, examining the blond teen, who was looking at her as an afterthought. She really couldn't be bothered arguing with him, for she knew he'd get his way whether she put up a fight or not…and right now she was too exhausted to even bother. She reasoned that Marik seemed a little less taunting than usual too.

"I'll stay," she murmured, deciding that if Marik was a royal pain, she could probably push her luck and sprint across the road to her house. Hopefully he wouldn't chase after her. "But  _don't_  make me regret being so compliant about it." Doubt infested her mind the moment his smirk returned.

"I can't make any guarantees, My Dear Ish."

" _Don't_  call me that."

Marik's eyes laughed at her. "I see your stubbornness has returned."

"And I see your sadness has left."

He stilled, and this time A'isha found satisfaction in his silence. After all, she'd actually said something to make him speechless!

"What  _were_  you so lost in thought about?" she pressed. She didn't really think he'd tell her, but it was worth a shot…not to mention it distracted him from being a total jerk for a little while.

"Nothing that concerns you," he suddenly spat.

Ish frowned. Scratch that. He was still being a jerk. "Is it to do with Amarillo?"

For a split second, she was near certain shock had flashed through his lavender eyes. "Amarillo?" He laughed, sounding drier than two week old toast. "Why would I waste my thoughts on that embarrassing excuse for a woman?"

"What did you do to her six years ago that made her so afraid of you?" she pressed, repeating her question from the sickbay, and knowing she was treading on very thin ice.

"I already told you, that—"

"—doesn't concern me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Something tells me it does."

"You really shouldn't jump to such irrational conclusions," he spoke through strained lips. "Especially concerning matters that – as I just said – have absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Quit acting like I'm stupid!" she hissed, regaining some level of defiance. "It doesn't take a  _genius_  to figure out you've read her mind!"

"As you've just so clearly proven," he pressed, smirking.

A'isha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Do you  _seriously_  have a death wish?"

"Is that a threat?"

"It doesn't take a genius to figure  _that_  out either," she snapped, "so I'm glad you understood that rather cryptic statement." Her fingertips were now brushing across the door handle as she seriously considered making a run for her house right then and there.

"True; unraveling your poor, but amusing excuse for a threat didn't take a genius, but I doubt there's much truth to it. The idea of you being the death of me is laughable at best."

 _Screw it,_  A'isha concluded, gripping the door handle firmly.  _I am_ not _putting up with_ this _until Ahad gets home!_  She swung the door open, scooping up her school bag as she did. Her first thought was to stomp down his driveway in the direction of her house, but in showing her frustration through physically storming off, she knew Marik would only enjoy the obvious results of winding her up. So instead, she attempted to calmly stride in the direction of her new home.

There was hardly a delay before the sound of a second car door clicking open met her ears. She quickened her pace, and refused to look back. The door shut soon after and the sound of swift strides bounced off the pavement.

She upped the pace another notch. "Go awa-!" Her words were cut short when a hand snaked around her right wrist, forcing her to a sudden stop.

"You're not going anywhere."

Her eyes narrowed as they shot over her shoulder to meet his gaze. "Yes I am!" she snidely replied, trying and failing to yank her wrist from his vice like grip. She shuddered as his thumb slowly traced soft circles along the bare skin of her wrist, no doubt in an attempt to nerve her further.

"It doesn't look that way to me." His smirk returned, not that it was ever really gone for long.

"If you  _let go of me_ —" She yanked again, "—maybe you'll see some results!"

"Why not simply obey me?" Marik goaded. He ceased tracing circles upon her skin, instead tightening his grip. "I'll win either way."

"Pride is one of the only things I have left in this world." She flashed a sweet smile. "I'd rather keep it."

"Pride will get you hurt," he said bluntly.

"I take it that's spoken from experience?"

His lavender eyes narrowed. "You'd like to know."

"Well obviously an arrogant jerk like yourself would value your pride."

"Don't we all? It is, after all, an integral part of being human."

"Hurry up and let go!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "I'd rather not stick around while you go on to ponder the meaning of life too."

Marik's hold on her wrist didn't budge. "Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life."

"How sweet. You missed your calling as a poet." She tried once more to yank her wrist from his grasp, to no avail. "So are we just gonna stay like this? Because there's no way in  _hell_  I'm going into your house."

"There's a park around the block," Marik suggested, all arrogance now stripped from his voice, replaced by nonchalance. "It's surrounded by houses, but there's also a convenience store across the street from it. It is rarely empty in the afternoons."

A'isha was silent as she mulled over his offer. It was a step up from his house as far as safety went, assuming that he was telling the truth. But she'd still have to deal with looking at the insufferable jerkwad, which was perhaps marginally worse than hearing him in her head. "Why should I trust that this park is safe?" she drawled slowly, sending a mistrustful look his way.

He revealed a sweet smile that made her want to gag. "You'll just have a trust me."

A'isha scoffed. "I don't even trust you as far as I can throw you."

His grip on her wrist was unwavering as his mocking smile morphed into that damn infuriating smirk. "You act as though I'm giving you a choice."

She tried and failed to yank the limb free once more, then resorted to a frustrated huff instead. It wasn't nearly as satisfying. "Jeez, I feel sorry for the girl that's dumb enough to deal with your controlling ass."

Marik laughed at her expense. "I'm certain Little Amara would beg to differ."

She groaned at the reminder of her cousin's apparent obsession with Mister High and Mighty. "Amara I can understand," she stated firmly, "But almost the whole damn school? How the hell did your psychopathic butt manage  _that_?"

"Psychopaths are actually very charming individuals."

"So you admit that you're a psycho?"

"Of course not," Marik countered as though it were obvious. "I am merely shedding light on your rather ignorant statement. Psychopaths are far more common and far less detectable than their reputation suggests. And they're not all criminals."

"Well there's no way you have a sound frame of mind."  _Boy, is that the understatement of the century?_  she continued in her head, before realising he might be listening. She stiffened slightly, loosening a little only two seconds later when the thought was merely met by silence. Finally. "So if you're not a psychopath, then what are you?"

"Why is it that everyone in society must be labelled?" he softly challenged. "Why must there always be a reason for someone's behaviour? For the way they choose to live? Or the way they choose to interact with those around them?"

"Perhaps if someone has an excuse for the way they are, they're that much easier to understand, and that much less terrifying." She took a shaky breath as her lip quivered twice. "So what's your excuse?"

Lavender eyes narrowed on her. "I don't have one."

At last, Marik released her wrist, but much to her discomfort, he continued to eye her almost...defensively. A'isha gingerly rubbed her wrist with her left hand, sending a pointed glare his way all the while. She was about to attempt a scathing remark at the blond jerk when he spoke, his words surprisingly soft and without conceit.

"The park is this way."

A'isha scowled at Marik's retreating form, stepping suavely along the sidewalk and not even bothering to check if she was following. Her blue gaze trailed across the street to her house, the modern architecture hinting at the wealth of its owners. She was a fast runner and athletic enough. Why shouldn't she just make a run for it right now? She could scale the tall fence that closed off the back yard, find the spare key to the rear door in the potted plant near that entry, and simply dash inside. She sighed softly as her sights returned to Marik. But he'd still pester her with his freaky mind-talking powers.

The scuff of shoes met the teen girl's ears. She realised Marik had halted about fifteen steps away to give her a one eyed glance over his left shoulder.  _ **"You do realise I can hear you right now?"**_

A'isha glared daggers his way, her arms stubbornly folding across her chest as she huffed. The laugh that echoed through her mind only confirmed that she'd given him the reaction he'd been hoping for.

 _ **"It wouldn't be very prudent of you to attempt that little plan of yours, Dear A'isha."**_ Another icy chuckle within her mind.  _ **"** **Though I must admit, it would be amusing to watch you try."**_

A defeated groan escaped A'isha's lips, though her defiant glower remained as she hesitantly opted to follow the infuriating boy. The frustrating fact that he won regardless of the choice she made bitterly occupied her mind on the silent walk to the park.

* * *

Five minutes later, the quiet duo found themselves passing by a small and reasonably well-kept convenience store. A'isha noted the occasional customer popping in and out of the shop, some reaching the location by foot like they had, while others pulled up in cars, making use of the few car parks that lined the sidewalk they currently paced along.

"So you weren't lying," A'isha murmured somewhat bitterly, eyeing her company as he looked up and down the street, before casually stepping across it, towards the tranquil park on the other side. She followed a few steps behind, checking for cars before hopping onto the road herself. She wasn't about to go trusting Sir Jerk-A-Lot's judgement. Not to mention a part of her hoped he  _had_  missed a car when looking both ways. Alas, that had not been the case.

"Of course I wasn't lying," Marik returned, regarding her comment moments ago. He turned to her once they were both safely across the street, smiling wryly. "When have I ever given the impression that I'd lie to you, Ish?"

"Only friends and family can call me Ish!" she muttered sourly, not sharing his amusement. "You don't fall under either of those categories." She inhaled sharply, trying and failing to dismiss the frustration that bubbled within her. Why did he have to be so damn good at pushing her buttons in all the wrong ways?

 _ **"Would you rather I pushed them in all the right ways?"**_ Marik stirred, suggestiveness oozing from each and every word.

 _In your dreams!_  she hissed back, realising just how frequently she'd been glaring these past few days. And all thanks to this crazy nutcase!

Marik simply chuckled as he spun on his heel to wander along a concrete path lined with shrubs that were lush and green, thanks to it currently being almost three weeks into October, Alexandria's rainiest month. Though in the few days that she had been there, it hadn't rained once.

A low growl itched her throat as she stiffly followed him, curiously scanning her surroundings as she walked. The park was reasonably sized, the path they occupied branching off in two directions. One path led to a modest playground near the entrance, where a young boy laughed with a child's innocence as he slid down a bright blue, plastic slide. His mother kept a close eye on her son from a nearby bench, though her gaze often dropped to the infant that A'isha assumed occupied the pram parked beside her. Ish couldn't see inside the push chair from her current angle, as it was facing away from her.

A'isha minutely frowned, the sight reminding her of her own mother. Tears clawed at her eyes, begging for release that she refused to give, as her mind wandered almost two and a half weeks into the past.

Marik opted to take the other path, which snapped A'isha from her grim reminiscing. She looked off into the distance, quickly realising that the path met up with another street, while middle class houses lined the park itself on both sides. A few benches scattered the grass near where they currently wandered, beside a modest pond that shimmered brilliantly beneath the warm Egyptian sun.

The blond teen seized her attention when he left the path, his leather shoed feet sinking into the vibrant green grass that blanketed the majority of the area. She watched him inquisitively as he approached a tall tree, which loomed over them both, casting a shadow that shielded them from the burning rays of the sun, though a few stubborn rays somehow managed to sneak through the leaves, spotting patches of the ground in light. A'isha almost immediately recognised the tree as a very mature royal poinciana. In Egypt, from May through to June, stunningly bright red flowers bloomed at its ends, like a cloak thrown over the green leaves that lined its branches. Sadly, only those leaves remained at this time of the year.

A'isha smirked, swiftly striding past Marik to effortlessly scale the tree. Back in Los Angeles, a few aged coral trees had been dotted about her back yard. She had always enjoyed climbing them. As a child, Ish had enjoyed the triumphant feeling that washed over her upon reaching the highest points that she could manage without a branch snapping. As a teenager, she had scaled them when she found herself troubled. And perhaps still a little bit for the satisfaction of reaching the top.

Wavy, raven hair wafted about her, tickling her face as A'isha reached the highest point that she could manage, without a branch breaking beneath her weight. At least she didn't have to see Mr High and Mighty's face from...up...here. Her features instantly distorted into a look of pure agitation as Marik's smug face entered her line of sight.

"I used to climb this thing all the time as a kid," he explained, eyes laughing at her.

A'isha instantly wanted down. There was only one problem. "You're in my way."

"I guess you'll just have to deal with Mr High and Mighty's face." His mocking gaze narrowed on her. "Won't you?"

A'isha scoffed, refusing to reveal just how nerving it was that he could read her every thought...through physical expression anyway. Though, really, what was the point? He could always find out how she was feeling, what she was thinking. Any information he wanted was only a mind read away.

"How do you have these freaky mind powers?"

Marik gave an entertained scoff. "You've already asked this. Why do you think I'd tell you now?" he countered. "After all, I don't plan on ending this little game of ours when it has barely begun."

"What?" A'isha looked incredulous. "So telling me how you do it is somehow going to hinder your abilities to do so?"

"No."

"Then why the hell can't you tell me!" A'isha shrieked, fighting hard against the rage that had her trembling. After all, losing her cool when high up in a tree wasn't exactly a good idea.

"I could tell you," he began, smiling sweetly. "But I choose not to because it's simply not important."

This was just becoming ridiculous. "Not. Important." she hissed through clenched teeth, her short nails digging hard into the thick branch on which they sat. "How is the fact that you can read my thoughts and talk to me in my head anything but important? What? Is this just another day for you? Do you just go around using your creepy mind powers on anyone you want?!"

He watched her closely, savouring the fury he'd brought forth and only continued to fuel with his never-ending, mocking gaze. He answered a second later, "If using my 'creepy mind powers', as you so eloquently put it, serves anything to my advantage, then yes. I do use them." He scoffed. "I'd be a fool to not make use of the abilities I have and the rather obvious benefits of doing so."

A'isha continued to glare at the blond. "And yet you're a monster for using them."

Marik surprised her with his silence, as a frown flickered across his face. She hoped she'd hurt him with that comment. She hoped that was why he'd shut up for once. It was the least he deserved after everything he'd put her through in the short time she'd been here. And for everything he'd no doubt continue to put her through until she eventually left Alexandria for greener pastures… if or when that ever happened.

"This was the first place I ever used my powers," Marik suddenly spoke up, snapping her from those thoughts. She looked left to find him almost completely void of emotion, save for perhaps the slightest sliver of...sorrow?...in both his eyes and his words. "Right here in this tree." His eyes dropped to the green ground below. "I was ten."

"When your father died?"

Marik froze at that. "What gives you that idea?" he said a little too quickly, his tone defensive.

"Elissa told me your father was murdered when you were ten. And you almost seemed sad as you talked about it just now..."

"Sad? Over my father's demise?" Marik heaved an amused chuckle. "I'm glad he was killed. He deserved it. If anyone in this world was a monster, it was  _him_."

"Then is he what made you this way?" Realisation sparked to life inside her mind, like a light bulb flashing brightly above her, as she recalled the glimpse she'd caught of stretched scars upon his back only around twenty or so minutes ago. "And did he give you those scars on your back?"

A low growl rumbled in his throat. "You're asking an awful lot of questions, girl," he basically spat.

"And you're not answering any of them!" A'isha shrieked, as both teens became the victim of the others venomous stare. "And you're the one who told me this was where you first used your creepy mind powers. What do you expect me to say?"

Marik's sour stare faded to blankness and a second later, his amethyst gaze dropped to the two tanned hands that rested in his lap. Slowly, he raised his right hand, thoughtfully extending each finger, curiously wiggling them as though the sensation was new to him. "How different would your life be if you possessed the very powers that I hold at my fingertips?" His hand fells to his side, where he absently brushed his fingers over the rough bark of the branch that supported their weight. "Would your parents still be alive?"

A'isha's stomach sunk, the icy tendrils of horror swiftly seizing the organ within its tight, ruthless grasp. Nausea soon reared its ugly head her way as she desperately suppressed the hot bile that burned her throat, before resorting to churning her stomach instead. He definitely knew.

"Just as my abilities can bring about unrelenting fear within others, they can also be used to thrust light into a life shrouded by dark, dismal despair." He chuckled then. "Spouting oddly poetic words of hope… Clearly I've been spending too much time with my sister."

"Clearly not enough," she snidely stabbed. " _She's_  actually nice. Same goes for Odion." She arched a mocking brow. "So what went wrong with you?"

Marik rolled his eyes. "Really, girl, how memory must fail you… I have already stated that my actions have no excuses."

"Only consequences?" She was incredulous once more.

"Precisely."

"I don't buy it." When silence was her only reply, she decided to back track a little, surmising that he had no intention of discussing 'excuses' further. "You say you can make life better with your freaky mind powers. So when have you ever used them for that purpose?"

"I stopped Amarillo from punching you."

Her mood rapidly soured even further at the reminder of her first encounter with that damn Tamarillo cow. She delicately touched the lump on her forehead that was thankfully concealed behind black bangs. "You only stopped the first punch."

The smile that snaked onto Marik's lips only heightened her unease. "But did you not accept any potential consequences the moment you went through with your actions?"

"Well, yeah…" A blush grazed her cheeks as his smile widened. "But I...I didn't expect her to go all Incredible Hulk on my butt."

"So what was your excuse for standing up to her?" So maybe he  _was_  still open to discussing 'excuses'.

"You already know the answer to that." For once, Marik knew the answer not because of his mind powers, but because she'd told him herself back in the cafeteria that the bullying beast needed to learn her place… though she had still told him this through the weird telepathic talk they seemed to have going on.

A'isha sighed when Marik cocked a brow, silently asking for elaboration anyway. "Because she was being a rude, selfish bitch and someone needed to make sure she knew her behaviour was  _not_  okay!"

"Were you really any better than her back in America?"

A'isha flinched as though he'd slapped her. He might as well have. She hadn't expected the comment, and yet she knew she should've… Of course he'd discovered what she'd been like back in America by means of his weirdo psychic abilities. "I-I never punched anyone," she sputtered, struggling to gather her composure as guilt gripped her mind without mercy. She knew she'd made some horrible choices. She'd hurt people. Made friends with the wrong crowd; with people better off being enemies. But the jerk didn't need to remind her of it. After all, hadn't she paid the price on her birthday some two weeks ago?

"A tongue has no bones," Marik murmured softly, "but it can still shatter one's psyche."

"And not all scars are set in skin," A'isha snidely shot back, satisfied upon seeing him noticeably stiffen. This time, she  _knew_ she'd struck a chord.

Both teens fell silent, conceding to their thoughts; depressingly for A'isha, only one of them was lost in thoughts the other would never know. All was still, save for the rustling of leaves in the light afternoon breeze and a child's laughter in the distance.

A'isha straightened slightly when her company finally left his spot beside her on the sizeable branch, years of experience evident as he effortlessly scaled down the thick tree trunk to meet vibrantly green grass once more.

 _ **"**_ _ **Distrust is one's only defence against betrayal.**_ _ **"**_  The words echoed softly through the confinements of her mind as their owner found the ground very intriguing.  _ **"**_ _ **I believe that is something we can both agree on, Dear A'isha.**_ _ **"**_

A'isha's bottom lip quivered, memories returning as tears threatened to show.  _Betrayal is universal to those without principle._

He looked at her then, an odd combination of irritation and understanding within the depths of his amethyst orbs.  _ **"**_ _ **Is that directed at me? Or at the fool you once called your boyfriend?**_ _ **"**_

Finally, a sob shook her body as warm droplets snaked down her cheeks like a ruthless river. A silent answer to his question.

 _ **"**_ _ **I shouldn't have said that...**_ _ **"**_ The admission came surprisingly gentle, and she didn't miss the guilt etched through his words. But that didn't stop her from doubting the emotion's existence. And yet the slightest part of her was amazed by the closest thing the jerk could likely come to apologising.

With that, Marik suavely spun on his heel, taking slow, almost sombre steps back the way they'd came. And for the first time all day, A'isha had a feeling he didn't want her to follow him.


	11. Chapter 10: Musings Of The Past

A'isha lingered in the aged tree for an unknown amount of time, absently swaying her legs through the air as countless thoughts consumed her drained mind. Thoughts that were finally hers and hers alone.

For the first time since her birthday, ruminations of her ex back in America were banished to the deepest recesses of her mind, replaced by contemplations of a man with two masks. Marik manifested himself as the picture of a gentleman, exploiting his admittedly good looks, clear charisma and – without a doubt – his freaky mind powers to manipulate those around him into not just liking him, but  _loving_  him. That thought alone gave way to a multitude of questions.

What  _did_ make him this way? How does he possess these enigmatic powers? Why does he see the need to deceive those around him, rather than simply living life like any normal person would?  _Because he's clearly not normal,_ she silently answered,  _but that only brings me back to what_   _made him this way._ She groaned.  _These questions only give way to more...and I haven't even answered the first ones._

A'isha effortlessly descended the tree, years of practice obvious in the action. She silently prayed that her many questions would remain in the tree. Sadly, this was not the case. On her walk home, she barely spared enough brain power to worry that someone might see her out and about when she should really be resting. Especially Amarillo, seeing as she apparently lived only two houses down from her.

 _You really know how to pick your enemies, Ish,_  she bitterly thought, as images of the daunting female flashed through her mind. They were soon replaced by an infuriating smirk, which was decidedly worse than Amarillo's smug face. A'isha audibly growled as she reached her house. She briefly glanced across the street to find Marik's car still in the driveway; however, his bike that had been parked beside it was gone.  _He must have hooned off somewhere on that death trap to have a little sulking session._

Wondering if it was late enough for Amara to be home, Ish withdrew her smart phone from a side pocket of her school bag. "It's almost four o'clock. She  _might_  be."

As she slipped her phone into the right cup of her bra, A'isha decided against knocking on the front door, knowing her cousin would likely interrogate her with a string of questions she really could  _not_  be bothered answering. Instead, she opted to scale the fence that closed off her backyard, ignoring just how undignified she looked as she struggled over the barrier that had seemed far shorter than it looked. At least Marik wasn't around to see it.

Maybe thirty seconds later, her feet met the lush grass on the other side. She tiptoed across the lawn, sparing glances through a few windows as she did, hoping to avoid Amara's eye if she  _was_  home. It took no time at all to find the spare key among the soil of the potted plant beside an outdoor table and some chairs. Her attention fell on her nails as she unlocked the back door, wondering why they didn't find somewhere a little less...dirty to hide it.

A'isha didn't miss the casual conversation coming from the family room as she entered the kitchen, gently inching the back door shut behind her lest she draw attention from her cousin and whoever she was with. She set the key down on the kitchen bench, wanting nothing more than to wash the soil from her hands, cringing at the dirt beneath her nails... but the sound of running water would only alert her cousin to her presence. Luckily she had baby wipes on her desk upstairs; they were a cheaper alternative to make up wipes, and quieter than their house's water pump.

"Standing up to Amarillo, though," came a girl's voice; one she didn't recognise. "That takes serious guts."

"Or serious stupidity," Amara returned with a scoff.

"That too, I guess."

A'isha barely resisted the urge to groan as she headed for the archway that led to the stairwell, purposely avoiding the family room. Of course they were gossiping about her.  _And the award for worst cousin goes to-_

"Hey, Mar?"

"Yeah, Jasmine?" Amara sounded a little disinterested, and A'isha could just picture the girl nonchalantly inspecting her nails, like she'd done on the car ride to school that morning when blabbing on about all the guys that supposedly liked her.

"Is it true that her and Marik are dating?"

A'isha stopped dead in her tracks, gripping the wooden archway as those horrifying words met her ears.  _Okay, seriously._ Her grip on the archway tightened.  _Shoot me now!_ She seriously considered marching in there and answering that ridiculous question herself, but then they'd know she'd been eavesdropping on their little gossiping session.

"Yeah right," Amara snidely screeched. "He's  _way_  too hot for her. Not to mention he's totally into  _me_."

"You mean  _me_ ," Jasmine countered. Her tone sounded playful, though Ish had a feeling the girl wasn't kidding. She was obviously a member of Alexandria High's 'Marik fan club'. "So why was he showing her around all day?" she innocently asked. "He even got involved in that cafeteria fight and carried her to the sickbay afterwards."

Ish briefly wondered if she'd met this Jasmine girl. Not that she could recall...though a lot of eyes had been on her throughout the course of the day and she'd only learnt a few names. This girl was likely in Amara's grade too; one grade below her. She concluded that gossip had, without a doubt, spread like wildfire through the school. Especially as Marik seemed to somehow be that 'unattainable popular guy'.

"He's Mister Nice Guy," Amara reasoned, likely shrugging in sync with her words. Ish barely resisted an amused snort at the ridiculously unfitting title. "Of course he's gonna show her around and defend her from that psycho nutcase."

 _Oh please,_  A'isha thought, rolling her eyes.  _If anyone's a psycho nutcase, it's Marik... granted Amarillo would be a_ very  _close second._

As much as A'isha wanted to continue eavesdropping, she had a feeling it'd only make her feel worse, which was why she carefully tiptoed up the stairs and into her room. After softly shutting the door – careful to use her not-so-dirty palm to open and close it, rather than her soil-covered fingertips – she dropped her school bag in a corner and retrieved a baby wipe from her desk to clean her hands, before tossing it in a nearby metal bin. Finally, she unceremoniously slumped onto her bed.

The fact that they were still gossiping about her downstairs continued to bother her as she stared at the plain white ceiling. Bitter disbelief wriggled its way into her mind. How could her cousin be so callous!? The cow knew she'd been through a lot these past few weeks and yet all she was doing was making her life worse! As if school wasn't hard enough without Amara talking smack about her to all her friends. If they were anything like Amara, they wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut to save their lives... and  _she_  would be the one who'd have to suffer for it.

An abrupt buzz tore her from her brooding. Arching a curious brow, A'isha removed her phone from her bra cup, holding it out above her as the screen automatically illuminated. Her eyes bulged.  _What the heck?!_ Her face twisted with disbelief as she scrolled through the seemingly endless notifications listed on her iPhone's lock screen.  _Are these all...Facebook friend requests?_

A'isha quickly unlocked her phone to open the Facebook app.  _One hundred and seven friend requests!? What the- I barely spoke to five students today!?_ She wasn't sure if hanging out with Marik or being pummelled by Amarillo had resulted in her sudden...what...popularity? She remembered that her profile was set to private, meaning that only her friends could view it in great detail.  _These people are obviously being nosy and want to Facebook stalk me._ She rolled her eyes at their lack of tact. Did they really think she was  _that_  stupid?

As she scrolled through her many friend requests, a few  _did_  happen to stand out to her: Julie Hughes from the sickbay; Dani Wyatt, Marik's surprisingly not jerky friend; and Karissa Hill, the girl she was sure had tried to strike up a conversation with her in English. She accepted those three.

Funnily enough, Marik hadn't added her. Not that she was surprised. She would obviously decline it... Kind of made her wish he  _would_  try to add her, simply for the satisfaction that tapping "Delete Request" would bring.

A'isha wondered if anyone had tried to message her, seeing as it was possible to submit a Message Request to someone who isn't your Facebook friend. She switched to the Messenger app and, sure enough, she had twenty eight new messages waiting for her. Most were some sort of  _'_ _Add me!'_ or  _'_ _Hope ur ok'_  and the like. Though a few girls had asked if she and Marik were a thing. Typical.

A'isha was particularly appalled by one message from some girl called Atia, which read  _'_ _Hey Giiirrrrrl! Does Marik have a big D?'_

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she shrieked, before remembering her cousin was downstairs with that Jasmine girl, unaware of her presence. Hopefully that was still the case. Scoffing, A'isha was tempted to humour Atia and herself by telling her it was teeny tiny and oh so disappointing...but that would only imply she'd seen it. No thanks.

A'isha returned to the main Facebook app, doing a little Facebook stalking herself as she checked out her new friends' profiles.

_Julie Hughes  
_ _Born 17 December 1996 (15 years old)  
_ _Studies at Alexandria High School  
_ _Waitress at Brazilian Coffee  
_ _In a relationship with Aiden Hunter since 14 April 2010_

Julie's profile picture was of her and a guy she assumed was Aiden. The brunette was fervently glomping her strawberry blond beau, as he beamed at her with fond eyes. They looked to be at the beach, and from the angle, A'isha could tell that someone else had taken the photo. She didn't miss the many posts littered on Julie's page between her and Karissa, along with a few other girls. The two seemed to be good friends. That likely explained why Karissa seemed to try and strike up a conversation with her in English class. Julie seemed like a sweet girl; no doubt her friends would be too. She tapped Karissa's name on one of Julie's posts, moving onward to her profile.

_Karissa Hill  
_ _Born 7 October 1996 (16 years old)  
_ _Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
_ _The Boss at Being Awesome  
_ _Single_

A'isha glanced at the girl's profile picture; the Eiffel Tower loomed high overhead, while she had her arms held high, an enthusiastic grin brightening up her whole face. She had straight, shoulder length blonde locks and stunning emerald eyes. Karissa was definitely very pretty.

Ish barely registered her smile as she proceeded to check out Dani's page, and she burst out into a fit of laughter as she saw his chosen profile picture. Beer in hand, he had somehow struggled into a little black dress that was far too small for his chiselled body. His face was caked in poorly applied make up, while a curly red wig hid his dirty blonde hair. A toned arm, tanned and covered in golden bands, was wrapped around Dani's shoulders.

 _Oh boy... There's only one person that could be._ A'isha reviewed the comments section of Dani's profile picture to find a comment from Mister High and Mighty.  _'_ _We lost a bet...'_ the infuriating boy had said, replying to a girl who was asking for context. Stifling back another wave of laughter, she noticed Marik's profile picture was the other half of that photo. He was clad in a bright red, tight fitting dress that just looked  _so_ wrong. His hair was drawn back into a high bun, complete with a red bow with white polka dots. His lips were red, while his cheeks were blushed up to the max and his eyes resembled a raccoon's.  _Oh I am_ so  _giving him grief about this when I next see him._

A'isha back tracked to check out the "About" portion of Dani's profile.

_Dani Wyatt  
_ _Born 12 June 1996 (16 years old)  
_ _Studies at Alexandria High School  
_ _Waiter at Brazilian Coffee  
_ _Single_

_So Julie and Dani must know each other,_ A'isha thought, briefly wondering if the two were friends. She figured they were probably acquaintances, as Julie hadn't really talked about Marik like she knew him well...and, well, wouldn't she if she was Dani's friend?

Her phone buzzed. A message from Julie. She smiled, opening the chat screen.

Julie Hughes:  
Hey A'isha! Thought I'd drop a line and check on how you're doing. Hope you're feeling better!

A'isha frowned, gently brushing her fingers across the lump on her temple. She supposed she felt a little better. Facebook seemed to have distracted her from today's dramas.

A'isha Dahar:  
Hey Julie! I am feeling a lot better. Thanks for asking! I really appreciate you visiting me in the sickbay today. :)

Julie Hughes:  
Don't sweat it. Anything for the girl who's ballsy enough to stand up to Tamarillo. XD

A'isha Dahar:  
It seems like the whole school knows about that... I just found 107 friend requests when I checked into FB. :S

Julie Hughes:  
OMG really? That's crazy! But hey, not bad for day one at a new school. ;)

A'isha Dahar:  
One girl even messaged me asking how big Marik's D is! Wtf!

Julie Hughes:  
Bahahahahahaha! That's hilarious! Can I ask who?

A'isha Dahar:  
Some girl called Atia? :/

Julie Hughes:  
Oh I'm not surprised. She's been crushing on him since forever... It's kinda sad, really.

A'isha Dahar:  
She can have him. Him and his D. However big it is. I wouldn't know. But apparently the whole student body thinks I would... -facepalm-

Julie Hughes:  
Don't worry. Everyone's just excited because there's never this much drama at school. Heck, if you want I can tell my peeps that you guys aren't an item and tell them to spread the word?

A'isha Dahar:  
OMG YES PLEASE! You would seriously be a life saver. :D

Julie Hughes:  
Consider it done! :D Anywho... -puts on a refined manly man voice- ...tell me a little about yourself, Miss A'isha Dahar. XD

* * *

A'isha had talked to Julie for hours; about how she'd grown up in America, her interests, even random things like celebrity crushes, to which Ish discovered that Julie loves Shemar Moore almost as much as she does. As it turned out, Julie was from England, having moved to Egypt as a baby when her father was offered a job opportunity he couldn't refuse. She'd mentioned her friends called her 'Jules', to which A'isha had advised that  _hers_ called her 'Ish'.

A'isha hadn't even taken a break from their messaging to throw something together for dinner, seeing as her aunt wasn't cooking so it was a 'fend for yourself' night. Really, she wasn't all that hungry anyway.

Only at 7:32 PM did she finally end the conversation, silently hoping things wouldn't be awkward when she saw Julie at school tomorrow. Talking to people online always seemed to be a breeze. Talking face to face on the other hand... Her worries vanished as she swiftly reminded herself of their amicable chat in the sickbay.

Glancing at the time again, A'isha knew it was still early, but utter exhaustion had overruled her heavy mind; courtesy of the concussion, jet-lag, weeks of terrible sleeps, the last few day's mind games, the many thoughts that swirled about in her brain.

Sighing, she sluggishly changed into her pyjamas: a black, over-sized shirt and smoke grey shorts. Ish was relieved to be met by sweet, sweet silence as she inched beneath her silky smooth bed sheets. She was too tired to even bother with switching on some piano music to sleep to, like she usually did. Not to mention the silence was a nice change.

Only when she'd curled up in bed, nuzzling her chin into her sheets, did she realise just how heavily exhaustion weighed down her weary frame. Thankfully...for once, it took almost no time at all for her to plunge into sleep's soothing embrace.

* * *

It had just struck nine when Marik entered his lovely abode, hanging his keys on a rack for that purpose near the front door. "Ishizu, Odion," he announced like always. "I'm home." For some reason, when he didn't make his presence known, Ishizu always told him off in that gentle, yet stern way that was uniquely hers. He still didn't know why.

"I'm in the living room, brother," Ishizu calmly called out.

He strode through the first archway on his left and, true to her word, his sister sat on an armchair constructed of deep wood with beige cushions. A moderately sized book rested in her lap, while reading glasses aged her a little.

Marik slid onto the sofa beside her. It bore the same grand design as her armchair.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Ishizu spoke up, marking her page with a deep red bookmark lined with gold trimmings. She set the book down on the mahogany coffee table before her.

He arched a brow, wondering why she'd stopped reading after his arrival. The semi-pointed look that shaped his features suggested he already knew why. "Not yet, sis."

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you, Marik." The older woman spared a smile his way. "There's some koshari in the fridge. I know it's your favourite." She removed her glasses, resting them atop her book before reclining into her plush armchair. "Why don't you go dish some out for yourself and bring it out here?"

Despite how nonchalant Ishizu was implying this little talk would be... a harmless chat as he ate his favourite dinner ...Marik knew it was all just a front. He could see the concern that swam deep beneath her calm demeanour. She was going to ask about A'isha. He just knew it.

Marik swept from the couch, heading for the kitchen as he mulled over Ishizu's words. His stomach squirmed then. The artifact was upstairs, locked away in his desk drawer. He'd left it there before taking his motorbike out for a spin down at Alexandria Docks, somewhere he always found himself when he needed to think. What if she'd found the item? What if she was about to interrogate him? What if she asked what it was? And how he had come to possess it?

No- This had to be about A'isha. His sister was paranoid; she had been for six years, much to his annoyance, though her paranoia was admittedly rather amusing as well. But would her paranoia drive her to bust open his desk drawer? He barely stifled a snort.  _Probably._

It wasn't that he hated his sister. Quite the opposite. He loved his siblings dearly, but they'd never understand. Which is why he'd kept the artifact a secret these last six years. Naturally, Ishizu and Odion had grown wary of his sudden change of demeanour...the confidence, courage, popularity. He had attributed it to his abusive father's passing, and to being in puberty's good graces. The first was true. His father's death had liberated him. And the second, his fangirls would without a doubt deem true as well. But nonetheless, his siblings had maintained a slightly cautious eye on him, something he'd grown accustomed to over the years.

He returned to the living room around five minutes later, reclaiming his seat. He set a metal tray on his lap, with a bowl resting upon it. "So what was it you were wanting to talk about, sis?"

Ishizu eyed him curiously. "You've been in an...awfully good mood lately."

"What of it?" Marik asked, his casual tone going against the defensive phrase.

"Would I be correct in stating that A'isha has something to do with your change in mood lately?"

Marik snorted, then said through mouthfuls of dinner, "I've been spammed with 'Is she your girlfriend' texts all evening." He flashed a smirk at his sister. "We're just friends." His smirk stretched. "But she is kind of cute."  _Especially when she's angry._

He barely suppressed laughter as Ishizu's expression twisted into a look of total dissatisfaction. He knew she hadn't exactly been asking about his love life, but rather, hoping he'd say something - anything! - that would give her some answers into his confidence these past six years. Like he was about to do that.

A minute later, as Marik finished the last of his koshari, he decided to speak up once more. "Was there anything else you'd like to discuss, sis?" The words came innocently, as he flashed a small smile to the woman who looked pensive, if anything. He didn't like that look, but reminded himself that she would never suspect that he was in possession of an item that allowed him to speak to another in their mind, or to read and control them.

"That is all, brother." She smiled, though it seemed rather forced.

"Very well." He stood, tray and dish in hand as he headed for the kitchen. "Elissa invited me over for dessert as thanks for looking after Ish this afternoon," he called over his shoulder. "So don't wait up for me, sis."

"Just don't be too late, brother. It  _is_ a school night."

"I won't be," Marik reassured, frowning. "A'isha's already asleep."

* * *

A'isha jolted upright in her bed. Panting heavily, beads of chilling sweat blanketed her skin. Her nightmare was fresh in her mind, clamping down on her brain as the organ writhed and wriggled frantically, while her body begged to be free of the despair that buried its way beneath her skin and into her bloodstream. Her heaves for air only quickened as that sickening feeling slowly slithered through every inch of her, circulating through her veins, seeming to freeze her life liquid until she shivered uncontrollably.

Staring aimlessly into the darkness of her room, A'isha choked on her tears as she desperately fought against the fear that held on tight, refusing to let go. Five minutes past before that abstract grip on her mind finally loosened. Another two ticked by before she had finally regained enough composure to check the time.

Out of habit, she always made sure to leave her phone charging on the mattress beside her pillow. It made it a little less painful to seek it out in the mornings, when she'd groggily be scrambling for the device to switch off her painfully loud alarm. Squinting, her eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright screen. 4:12 AM.

 _Well...at least I slept for at least eight hours._ She sighed.  _That's gotta be the first time since..._

Her lip quivered at the unintentional reminder of her birthday, and the reason for her nightmares. She could detect that feeling of despair returning as her breaths headed towards frantic once more, memories slicing through her mind without mercy.

_Music blared. The bass had the whole house vibrating. The crack of cans sliced through the air. The scent of alcohol lingered. Teens mingled, danced and laughed the night away._

" _Ian Somerhalder!" Chelsea shouted out over the near deafening music, pausing to sip her Sprite and Smirnoff concoction. "I would_ so  _tap that!"_

_A'isha laughed. "What about Shemar Moore?" she returned, matching the volume of her friend's voice. "He's pretty damn fine!"_

" _He's totally up there too!" she agreed, setting her drink down on the living room coffee table to withdraw a pack of mints from her pocket. She held it out to A'isha. "Want one?" She smirked. "Hint hint. They're_ not  _mints."_

_A'isha's eyes widened. "Y-You brought those into my house?" She wasn't sure that her friend could sense her sudden discomfort. "Where did you even get them?"_

_Chelsea blinked, confused. "Your boyfriend, silly." She gestured to a pale-skinned brunette across the room, a beer in hand as he chatted animatedly with a few friends._

_A'isha's eyes narrowed dangerously on him. She snatched the pack of "mints" from her friend and swept from her seat to march clear across the room to her boyfriend._

_Upon reaching the circle of teens that continued to chat away in drunken slurs, she tapped his shoulder, then cleared her throat. "Danny," she all but hissed over the music. He stumbled once as he turned to face her. One look at his eyes was all she needed to confirm he hadn't just been supplying her friends with drugs. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she gripped his wrist, silently fuming as she dragged him from the epicentre of the party, down the hallway and into her bedroom._

_A'isha slammed the door behind her, muffling the music considerably. "What the hell, Danny!?" she screamed, glaring dangerously at the boy who didn't seem fazed in the slightest. In fact, he merely leered at her, scanning her slender frame from head to toe._

" _So you've finally come to your senses about-"_

 _"I'm_ not  _sleeping with you!" she hissed. "I've already said a million freaking times that I don't even want to think about_ foreplay  _until we've been dating three months!"_

" _For fucks sake, Ish!" he growled, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis as he slumped back against her bed. "That's another month away though!"_

 _A'isha huffed, willing herself to focus on what she dragged him in here to discuss, rather than heading off topic. "When we started dating, you said you'd stop doing this shit-" She held up the small metal container. "You promised me!" She felt betrayed, but even worse...she felt utterly stupid for believing him. "And now you're bringing it into my_ house _! How could you!? You_ know  _my parents hate this stuff-_ I  _hate this stuff!"_

" _Calm the fuck down, A'isha!" Danny suddenly roared, stumbling from the bed to close any and all distance between them. His eyes were fierce, his face instantly twisted into a look that bordered on insane as he loured down at her. "Drugs aren't even-"_

" _Calm the fuck down?" A'isha interrupted, shoving him twice. He stumbled back onto the bed. "You want me to calm the fuck down?!" She growled in frustration as she hurled the container at the boy, satisfied as he flinched. "You brought_ drugs  _into my house and are_ dealing  _them to all my friends! And on my freaking_ birthday _! And you want me to calm down?! SCREW YOU!"_

_Danny swiftly found his feet. Curling his fists, he puffed his chest to appear even more intimidating as he loomed over her._

" _Don't you dare try to intimidate me!" A'isha spat, despite the fact he was doing just that. She straightened, glaring straight into his eyes with her next words. "We're done, Danny." His eyes glazed over, though she was sure she'd caught a hint of malice squirming within their depths. "I want to enjoy the rest of my night, so I suggest that you leave..._ now _." She quickly spun on her heel, roughly pulling her bedroom door open. After seeing the look in his eyes, she simply wanted to get away from him as fast as she possibly could._

 _A'isha rushed down the hallway. That is, until the sound of something smashing behind her met her ears. Stiffening where she stood, she knew the bastard, consumed by rage, had broken something in her room. Another smash. Make that two things..._ at least _. Shaking her head, terror making her tremble now more than ever, she willed herself forward, refusing to be anywhere near the psychopath. The last thing she wanted was for him to hurt her next._

Back in the present, A'isha was an inconsolable mess; gasping for air, a cold sweat layering her oddly pale skin. Her body trembled as tears flooded from her cheeks, like a swollen river after a fierce storm. It felt like her birthday all over again... after the night's end...

_Her parents would be home soon. They were aware of the party, but didn't want to be up too late, so A'isha had agreed to end things at midnight and to have the place tidy by 1:00 AM, when her parents expected to be home from their date night._

_The last of her friends had just left, bidding her a drunken farewell as they pranced off into the night. Some had been picked up by their parents. Others had chosen to walk home, to the beach, a park or wherever. She'd watched them saunter off, bottles still in hand as they basically shouted something or other to their friends who were right beside them, no doubt brassing off the neighbours in the process with their raucous laughter. One particular girl had invited Ish back to her place, where her and a few other friends planned on playing drinking games till the wee hours of the morning, seeing as the girl's parents were out of town._

_Any other night, A'isha would've accepted the offer, after cleaning up the house, of course. But tonight, she simply wanted to be alone. To cool down and shake off the drama. To appreciate some silence after the loud bass she'd subjected herself to all night. . . To simply ponder over her break up._

_For the first time since dumping Danny, A'isha prepared herself for the mess that no doubt laid beyond her bedroom door. Hesitantly, she twisted the door handle, slowly inching it open to peer around it. She instantly wished she hadn't the moment she saw the sorry state of her room. She sucked in air, paling as she saw a gaping hole in the wall to her left, beside a poster of Shemar Moore. He first thought:_ What a freaking psycho!  _Her second:_ But at least he missed the poster of my real boyfriend...  _And her third:_ But how will I explain this to mum and dad? 'Oh heeey, Mummy Dearest, Daddy Darling... My now-ex boyfriend went bat shit crazy and smashed a hole in my bedroom wall... Nope; somehow I didn't suspect he was a total nutcase before this.'

_A'isha could practically hear her parents "I told you so"... though maybe this time they'd say it in a more subtle way, considering she was no doubt still sore about the break up, even if he was a nutter. Her parents had always been a little skeptical of the guy...and now she knew why. She briefly felt ashamed, having always taken pride in her ability to read someone's character. She briefly wondered if, maybe, she had seen his true colours all along and had simply chosen to ignore them, shoving her intuition into the deep recesses of her mind? That would explain her terrible choice of friends as of late, too._

_Sighing, Ish spotted another fairly decent dent on one wall, with shards of glass scattered across the floor beneath it, shrouded around a busted, wooden photo frame that laid face down on the deep blue carpet. She refused to look at the photograph. It would only make her feel worse._

_Upon stepping into the room to inspect it for further, less obvious damage, A'isha was grateful for her converse as she stood on some larger shards of glass she'd failed to notice, right in the doorway. She rounded her door, groaning upon finding the mirror that hung from the bedroom side of it was shattered._ Yep. You really know how a pick a guy, Ish.

_With a roll of her eyes, directed more at her idiocy than anything else, A'isha stepped over to the gaping hole. Despite her shoes, she carefully tiptoed between the shards of glass that blanketed the carpet, silently dreading cleaning up this whole mess. She stopped by the aftermath of Danny's punch a second later, peering through the hole to find herself looking square into the living room._

_A'isha stiffened instantly. She swore she'd just glimpsed a figure skulking through the archway that led to the hallway. And eventually...to her room._ I'm absolutely positive I didn't miss anyone when saying goodbye!  _Straightening, she began to spin on her heel, intending to head for and ultimately out of her bedroom window, certainly not keen on finding out who exactly was in her house uninvited._

_Her stomach sunk as the crack of glass beneath steel capped shoes met her ears. Her eyes soon met two ebony orbs. "Danny!?" she screeched, not missing the redness of his eyes...the way he swayed ever so slightly where he stood. He looked completely out of it._

_Confusion racked her brain. She was certain she'd seen him storm out of the house maybe an hour ago. He'd even briefly silenced the party, having slammed the front door behind him as he left with his best friend, Lance, before the party goers broke out into whispers, some asking her what was up and if they'd had a fight. She'd felt utterly humiliated, and had willed that humiliation to turn into further disdain for the douche._

" _Wh-What are you doing here?" Her voice shook with terror as she stood amid the aftermath of his anger. She carefully masked that terror with her next words as she stormed towards him, though she left three steps of space between them, not wishing to get within striking range. "I wasn't kidding when I told you to leave!"_

_He simply chuckled, the sound dark and sickening. Nothing like she'd heard before from her ex. "We thought the place wasn't quite trashed enough yet." He took two steps towards her. She took just as many back, only for her calves to meet her bed behind her._

" _Get out, Danny!" A'isha hissed, hating the way his eyes wandered over her figure, covered by a flowing red dress that skimmed across her knees. Her hands sought out her cell phone, tucked safely away in her bra cup. "Or- Or I'll call your dad!" His father was a cop._

" _Oh, will you?" a fresh voice spoke up, before a faint click sliced through the air, only heightening the nausea that ruthlessly twisted her stomach. Her eyes widened, perceiving Lance sneering her way, hovering a few steps behind his friend in the doorway to her room. Only then did A'isha register the fact Danny had said 'WE thought the place wasn't quite trashed enough yet'._

_Eyes settling on the pistol in his hand, the barrel cocked her way, reality slammed into her like a train at full speed. Was this...really happening? Was her ex and his best friend, two people she'd known for months, really holding her at gun point?_

" _What..." She forced herself to remain calm, knowing better than to provoke either boy when they were clearly drugged up, probably drunk too. Much to her chagrin, her voice, like her body, still shook as she spoke. "La-Lance, please... p-put the gun down."_

" _Drop the phone."_

 _A hesitant moment drudged by, before she painfully complied, dropping the device along with her hope of rescue from...what? Her mind raced as she sought to figure out their intentions for her... One particular intention stood out to her, but... they wouldn't, would they?_ They're holding you at gun point,  _she sourly reminded herself._

_Danny snickered, watching her with hungry eyes as he closed the distance between them. Her face was more ashen than ever, unable to step back thanks to her bed and the wall beyond it. "You really should've fucked me when you had the chance, Ish." He swiftly stole her wrists, shoving her hard against the bed, pinning her in place with his solid frame. Her trembling was now uncontrollable, complete and utter horror slashing through her to the point that her whole body ached. "And because you didn't..." He glanced over his shoulder at his friend "Well...I'm not the only one who's going to have my way with you."_

_A'isha desperately squirmed beneath him, before hopelessness flooded through her. He was far too strong. "M-My parents-" she stuttered, her mind racing to think up something...anything to scare them off. "My parents will be home any second now!"_

" _At one right?" Danny smirked, permitting space between them as he reached for his belt. "It's barely past midnight."_

" _Are you sure, Danny?" Lance spoke up, seeming a little put off by her words. "What if-"_

" _Pl-Please, Danny!" she begged, her voice cracking pitifully as she continued to struggle beneath him. "D-Don't d-do th-"_

" _She's a virgin, Lance," he muttered to his friend, the words making A'isha whimper hopelessly. "I won't last long." She felt sick. Simply sick. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, adrenaline pumping through every inch of her. She shoved Danny hard, satisfied as he stumbled a few steps backward._

_Lunging to her feet, she froze as she was met by the barrel of a gun._

" _I suggest you lay down and take it, you fucking whore!" Lance hissed, sneering down at her with laughing eyes. He knew that, thanks to the gun, he controlled her. And it terrified her. She whimpered once more as he shoved the weapon against her head. "I said lay the fuck down and take it!"_

_A'isha flinched at his words, her mind torn as tears quickly formed in her eyes, making her head pound. She couldn't think. She couldn't move. She didn't know what to do._

_Unfortunately, Danny made that choice for her, shoving her hard against the bed once again. She sucked in air, shocked as his hand slid from her wrist to creep up her thigh. "Lance... Once I'm done. . . it'll be your turn."_

A'isha hugged herself tightly, feeling extremely pitiful as she curled up beneath the sheets. Tears stained her pillow as sobs hiccuped in her throat. Her head pounded, whether from the hideous bruise above her left brow, dehydration from balling her eyes out, or some combination thereof, she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that horrible didn't even begin to describe how she felt, and she knew she'd never get back to sleep now.

Her thoughts were a disarray of never-ending 'what ifs'. What if she'd accepted her friend's invitation to play drinking games at her house? What if she'd never broken up with Danny? What if she'd lunged for the gun? Or said something else? What if she'd never told Danny when her parents planned on getting home? Hell, what if she'd never been friends with that group in the first place?

Every time these thoughts racked her brain, she was always drawn back to one stomach-churning question. What if she'd never called them?  _Then they'd still be alive..._

This was all her fault. She knew it was. If she hadn't called, sobbing and whimpering into the speaker...unable to speak..to explain herself, they wouldn't have rushed to drive home. They wouldn't have thought she was in still danger... They wouldn't have taken that corner too fast... They wouldn't have hit that pole. She felt ashamed...vile...pathetic. If she'd just listened to them, their warnings of her terrible friends and her sketchy boyfriend, then none of this would've happened! They'd still be safe and she'd still be back in America! Not here with a family she barely knew, in a city she hadn't lived in since she was four and too young to recall it. And not stuck with  _him_. Him and his messed up mind games!

She hated him! She hated this place! But worst of all, she hated  _herself_...

" _ **You're up early,"**_ a surprisingly curious voice echoed through her mind, lashing away at the poignancy that had twisted tightly around it.

A'isha would've jumped, had she actually been standing. Instead, she straightened out beneath the sheets, clearing her throat as she struggled to get comfortable when all she wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and feel sorry for herself. A part of her freaked that the boy had actually seen her where she'd laid, curled in self pity and disgust. Did it matter? He could probably hear her thoughts anyway. He probably knew what she was so torn up about.  _Why_ she was up so early.

Though if he  _did_ know, he wasn't pointing it out, and she caught herself feeling grateful.

_I went to bed early._

" _ **I know,"**_  was his terse reply, shockingly without a hint of arrogance. Or maybe she was just too tired to pick it up. That must've been it.

_How did you know?_

" _ **Your aunt invited me over for dessert as thanks for taking care of you yesterday."**_

 _Whatever..._ A'isha knew her comeback was stupid, but really, she couldn't be bothered arguing after the horrible morning she'd had so far. Even if it meant losing a round of arguing with Mister High and Mighty. Though did she ever really win a round?

" _ **You seem a little distracted..."**_ She could simply imagine him arching a questioning brow when he continued,  _ **"**_ _ **Why is that?"**_

_Judging by the fact you've toned down on the jerk-ness, I'd say you've already read my mind and figured that out._

For the longest moment, all she heard was the faint chirps of birds beyond her bedroom window, warmly welcoming a new day with their soft songs. She would've thought he'd left her alone, had she not noticed that familiar tingling feeling in her head, like a thousand tiny needles sinking into the thin flesh. He was there.

" _ **Did you want to talk about it?"**_ he finally asked.

For a split second, A'isha thought he was rubbing that night in her face. Until she registered the gentleness in which the question had been delivered. It didn't suit him in the slightest. She was stunned. Was he  _actually_  offering her a shoulder to cry on? Well, figuratively anyway.

After overcoming the initial shock, she glared at nothing in particular, though she imagined directing it his way and hoped he knew.  _Why would I talk about it with you of all people!?_

" _ **Because I'm the only one that knows."**_

 _And the last person I'd ever talk to about it!_  She huffed, roughly folding her arms across her chest.  _So leave me the hell alone!_

About ten seconds ticked by as her head continued to tingle. Then, the blond boy surprised her for the second time within minutes, when that feeling suddenly vanished, replaced by a genuine silence that should have left her cheering triumphantly. But instead, left her curling back into a ball, sniffing quietly beneath the sheets in self pity.


	12. Chapter 11: The Joys Of Tutelage

A'isha had wallowed in her misery for another hour or so, hoping the sheets muffled most of her sobs and sniffles. The last thing she wanted was her family hearing her pitiful whimpers.

Aside from the harmonious bird song beyond her window, all was still and silent. Until the click of a door seized her attention, followed by footsteps she recognised as Uncle Ahad's. Thanks to his long legs, the pause between each step was slightly longer than Aunt Elissa's or Amara's. Sadly, the sound only served to remind her of her father's footfalls, which were much the same.

Heaving a resolute sigh, A'isha refused to feel sorry for herself for another minute. As much as she wanted to. The idea of dragging herself out of bed to tackle another day was absolutely daunting, to say the least. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and stay there forever, warm and peaceful... kind of.

 _But I need my timetable and locker combo,_  A'isha reminded herself, throwing the sheets off her slender frame. She winced as the cool morning air nipped at her skin. Rushing over to her closet, she quickly nabbed her navy blue dressing gown, throwing it around her slightly shivering frame before making headway for the exit.  _And if I want my timetable and locker combo, I'm going to need to beat Marik to school._

Ish barely stifled a groan at the thought of the jerk, and at the fact she'd have to deal with him all day, aside from in Mathematics, when he thankfully had a free period...though he'd probably still talk to her with his weird telepathic mind link or whatever it was. She refused to mull on the fact he'd seemed almost...nice to her earlier this morning. Though she  _did_  briefly wonder why the heck he'd been up at just after four in the morning. Hopefully not to go to school early...

Shaking her head, she willed herself to focus on the task at hand. She trekked down the stairs, two steps at a time, and through the archway that led to the kitchen, where she could hear the coffee maker moaning and hissing.

 _Marik will only do whatever he did yesterday to make the office lady think my timetable and locker combo aren't_ _in the school's system._  She knew Ahad left early for work, and the police station he was based at wasn't too far from Alexandria High School.  _He's my chance at regaining at least a little control from that mind reading freak!_

A'isha didn't miss the surprise that crossed Ahad's countenance as she entered the room. She briefly noted he was already in his police uniform, complete with a hat. She also noted how much like her father he looked; being identical twins, the only real difference was that Ahad's hair was shorter and his face was free of stubble. It was almost painful to see, like a cruel imitation of her father coming back from the dead.

"You're up early, A'isha!" he merrily stated from his place beside the coffee machine. "Feeling a bit better, are you?"

"Uhh...Yeah!" She offered a rather sheepish smile, feeling like she was lying after the morning she'd had so far. But at least she'd gotten it out of her system. For now, at least. "Hey, Uncle Ahad?"

He turned to face her with an ebony coffee mug in his right hand. "Yeah, Ish?" he said, flashing a smile that seemed almost sympathetic. She found herself wondering if he'd heard her crying.

 _God, I hope not!_  She almost cringed at the thought. "I was just wondering...I assume you're going to work early today?"

"I sure am." The sympathetic twist to his smile vanished with his next words. "Did you want a lift?"

"Yes please. I, uhh, wanted to study a bit before class today and I prefer studying in the library rather than at home." A'isha considered herself a pretty good liar, to those who didn't know her tells at least. But she felt a little off her game today, which was probably the reason for the second long skeptical look her uncle wore, before his smile returned.

"As long as you're ready in half an hour."

"Shouldn't be a problem."

Ahad gave a curt nod. "Alright." He gestured towards the fridge. "Elissa made pancakes for dessert last night and I took the liberty of dishing out a plate for you." He sipped his coffee before continuing, "Thought you might enjoy it for breakfast."

To A'isha's surprise, her smile was genuine. Something that seemed to be rare these days. "Thanks, Uncle Ahad." Her smile grew. "I think you just made my morning."

Ahad grinned back. "And I think you just made mine."

* * *

A'isha had managed to get ready with a minute to spare. After scoffing down breakfast and brushing her teeth, she'd double checked her bag had everything she'd need for the day ahead. After which she'd showered, taking a mere five minutes. She hadn't bothered to wash her hair, though she had wet it purely because she planned on shaking things up a little by wearing it down today; she loved the way it air dried into black, beachy curls.

Today's get up consisted of a loose-fitting, vibrant orange shirt made of silk, which she had slightly tucked into a pair of navy blue three quarter jeans. A silver charm bracelet and black ballerina flats completed the ensemble. She'd applied her daily make up look: a thin layer of foundation, a dusting of blush and a light coat of mascara. She had also decided to apply some strawberry scented lip balm with a slight red tint, as her lips had felt a little dry. Finally, she had covered the bruise on her forehead with some concealer, and shoved it in her bag in case she needed to touch up at school.

A'isha had just climbed into Ahad's burly four wheel drive, satisfied after noticing Marik's bedroom curtains were still closed and both his car and bike were still sitting on the driveway.  _But I won't get my hopes up just yet,_  she reasoned, despite the cautious optimism.  _He could've walked to school, gotten a lift or something and maybe just didn't bother to open his curtains today._

Staring out the passenger window, she heard Ahad jump into the driver's seat, followed by the click of the door. "Alrighty," the man murmured, more to himself, as he tossed something into the back seat. Probably his duffle bag stuffed with gym gear. Elissa had mentioned that he often worked out at the police station's gym after his shift.

Ish perceived the jingling of keys and, after a moment, the engine rumbled to life, beeping as it reversed down the driveway and onto the road. The car rolled into motion a second later, en route for Alexandria High.

A few minutes into their drive, A'isha couldn't help but feel a little awkward at the silence, save for the Arabic tunes that floated through the car radio. She felt this odd vibe as she stared out the window, like her uncle had something on his mind; something he wanted to say but simply couldn't put into words. Another minute passed before he confirmed her suspicions.

"I miss them."

A'isha stiffened. It was simple. She knew that wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping to say, but it was probably a start.

Another minute ticked by.

"So do I..."

Thirty seconds later.

"You have  _her_  smile." Ahad laughed, though there was no real joy to the sound. "And  _his_  pensive expression." He gave a long sigh. "Ish...I know we've barely seen each other these last few days, what with me working and you at school, off with Amara and all that." His grim tone had her biting back tears. "But I...can't help but feel like I've seen that second expression a lot more than the first since you got here." He cleared his throat. "Granted that's to be expected but I..." Another more defeated sigh passed his lips. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me." His voice cracked with his next words. "Because I...I lost my brother that day...my twin..."

A'isha knew what was to come as soon as Ahad pulled over to the side of the road. Merely a second after doing so, a sob shook his shoulders. And A'isha finally lost it, as tears flooded down her cheeks.

"Almahdi was my best friend... And I'd known your mother since I was eighteen." His left hand met his temple, while his right settled on her shoulder; a semi-successful attempt at consoling his niece. "I miss them both so much." Another sob. "And I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel."

A'isha couldn't help the pang of guilt that wriggled its way into the back of her brain. If she hadn't called them... "Thank you, Ahad," she quietly drawled, resting her hand atop the one he'd set on her shoulder. "That means a lot to me." And although she suddenly felt nauseous by the emotions and the memories that flooded through her, she wasn't lying. His empathy really did mean a lot. The fact he'd expressed it, even more so.

Sniffing for what must have been the millionth time that morning, A'isha withdrew a pack of tissues from a side pocket of her leather back pack. She held them out to her uncle, who graciously accepted one. Then she took one for herself, carefully dabbing around her eyes while silently thanking whoever invented waterproof mascara.

A'isha glimpsed Ahad tucking the used tissue into his back pocket. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. A'isha knew her uncle had regained his composure when he flicked on the indicator, and he merged back into the early morning traffic soon after. "Just remember, Ish," he gently said. "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to."

A'isha forced a small smile. He deserved that much, even if the simple action somehow left her exhausted. "I know you are."

* * *

"Yes!" A'isha basically sung, victoriously holding her timetable up high as she left the administration office. "A'isha, one; Marik, zero!"  _Well...not exactly, but let's not get into the logistics of it all._

Her triumphant grin wavered as she noticed a pair of brown eyes on her. They belonged to an understandably perplexed girl who currently watched her from a nearby indoor bench, an open textbook firmly within her grasp. She looked to be around fourteen or fifteen.

Clearing her throat, A'isha lowered the timetable to hip level, sheepishly shuffling past the girl. She didn't need to spare another glance the younger girl's way to know those brown eyes were still on her.

Only when she rounded a corner and out of sight, did A'isha slip her timetable, complete with her locker combo, into her left bra cup. The folded up paper pricked her boob a little, but Marik sure as heck wasn't about to find it there.  _Worth it,_  she thought, chuckling quietly to herself. She finally felt like she was regaining at least a little control over her life...and it felt great!

A'isha had also grabbed a map from the counter of the admin office, having quietly chimed, "Self proclaimed tour guide, you have officially been  _replaced_!" She currently used this to navigate the rather empty corridors to her Maths class. It was still early, so she figured she'd be waiting a while before class started, but she'd rather sit in an empty classroom than fall victim to the many stares of curious or gossiping students, after her run in with Amarillo yesterday.

As she made her way to class, A'isha minutely recalled the admin lady's confusion over how her colleague had been unable to locate her timetable and locker combo yesterday.

" _Really?" she had said, arching a brow. "That's strange... Everything's right here. I don't know why the woman couldn't find it for you."_

 _Because of Creeper McCreeperson,_  she bitterly thought, near positive Marik's abilities didn't just gift him with telepathy. But how could mind control exist? Was he a hypnotist or something? She had no clue, but after what she'd been through these past few days, courtesy of Mister High and Mighty, A'isha knew better than to rule out such strange notions.

"A'isha!" a deep voice called. Rushed footfalls upon the hard floor followed.

Quirking an eyebrow, she turned to find none other than Dani dashing towards her. A wide grin lit up his whole face. It must have been contagious, she realised, for she was now smiling too.

He stopped before her a few seconds later, absently shrugging his shoulders in order to adjust his bag straps. They must have shifted while he was running. She couldn't help but notice that even his sky blue eyes somehow seemed to be smiling at her. "Good morning, Ish!" he practically sung. "Thanks for accepting my friend request."

A'isha shrugged, smile never wavering. "Well thanks for sending it!" Her tone grew playful as she continued, "Nice profile picture by the way."

Dani blinked. A second later, his cheeks were flushed. "Oh- The cross dressing?" He sheepishly laughed. "Yeaaah. We came across a picture of our friend, Aiden, in a dress. Gave him grief about it, so he bet that we couldn't pull it off... We were hoping to prove him  _wrong_  buuuuut..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Unfortunately, we proved him  _ridiculously_ _right_."

A'isha briefly wondered how Dani had convinced Marik to throw on a dress. He didn't exactly seem like the type to do so willingly. Not that she knew the guy very well. He must have won the affections of the student body somehow...aside from taking advantage of his freaky powers.

Dismissing her dubiousness, A'isha registered the name of the friend who had placed the bet, having seen that very name on Julie's Facebook profile yesterday. "Aiden as in Julie Hughes' boyfriend?"

"That's right!" A nod accompanied his words. "You know them?"

"I haven't met Aiden, but Julie came to visit me at the sickbay yesterday and added me on Facebook last night."

"Oh gosh!" Dani suddenly cried, face twisting with horror. "I heard about the fight! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" She really wasn't in the mood for sympathy after her cry in the car with Ahad. "Really, I am."

He smiled, though she suspected he wasn't quite buying her reassurances. "I'd offer to redeem you, but one-" He held up his index finger. "I'm a walking, talking teddy bear and two-" His middle finger joined the first. "I don't hit girls...even Amarillo." His smile faded. "As tempting as the thought of showing that girl a thing or two is..."

A second later, cheerful realisation flashed through his eyes. "Hey! I'm having a Halloween party this Saturday night!" A grin had returned to grace his handsome features. "Why don't you come along? Marik's going!"

A'isha frowned as she perceived the hope swimming within her company's blue irises. She hoped he hadn't caught her second-long look of revulsion. Her last party hadn't exactly panned out well, and if Marik was attending this one, she doubted she'd enjoy herself. Though oddly, he was a little less of a jerk to her that morning.  _But that doesn't mean he'll stay that way._

She recalled her cheerful conversation with Dani yesterday before French class...and Marik's intentional implications that they were dating. Her eyes narrowed at the latter. She certainly didn't want Dani to be under the impression that her and Marik were a thing, but she also didn't want to tell him she was single and have him think she was doing so for...obvious reasons...so she decided against mentioning that right now. Hopefully Julie and her "peeps" really did spread word of her single status like wildfire, so she wouldn't have to do a thing.

"I'll...think about it."

"Think about what?" came an all too familiar female's voice. Grinning, A'isha spun on her heel to find Julie a few steps away.

"Hey Jules!" A'isha and Dani chirped almost simultaneously.

"Hey Dani-kins, Ishy Poo-" She came to a standstill beside A'isha, sending a smirk her way. "That's your name now, Missy."

A'isha shrugged quite nonchalantly, despite the sly smile that lit up her features. "I guess I'll just have to start calling you Julie Wulie."

"So where's my nickname, Ish?" Dani spoke up. She was near certain his tone possessed a faintly flirty edge. Maybe Julie had already told him that the 'dating Marik' rumour was nonsense. That or he didn't care that Marik had told him that she was 'off limits'. She hoped it wasn't the second, purely because he had been given the impression that she and Marik were a couple and she wasn't exactly a fan of anyone who would betray their friends...even if the friend they were betraying was a complete and utter jerkwad.

"Your nickname can be Dani Devito," A'isha countered with a sly smirk. "You're welcome."

"Well I'd like to think that I'm  _slightly_ cuter than Danny Devito."

Julie snorted. "Y'know, somehow I think Danny Devito would pull off that black dress a heck of a lot better than you did."

"Well," Dani began, "speaking of dressing up, did Aiden tell you about my party?"

"Are you kidding?" Julie scoffed. "Aiden has the memory of a goldfish. That boy doesn't tell me  _anything_!"

"That  _is_  true," he said, chuckling. "Well, I'm having a Halloween Party on Saturday night. You should come!"

"What time does it start?"

"Eight."

Julie groaned. "I  _would_...but I have an early shift on Sunday morning and it's a  _long_  one, so I'd rather not be exhausted for it."

Dani grinned. "Firas is babysitting his little bro on the night of the party, and I know he's saving up for a guitar." He gave a casual shrug. "I bet he'd be happy to take that long shift off your hands so you can go."

Julie beamed over at the boy. "Really?" She jumped for joy. "Fingers crossed 'cause that'd be awesome!"

"I'll ask him. I'm actually meant to meet up with him in-" Dani glanced at the thick digital watch wrapped around his wrist. His eyes bulged. "Now!" He winced, sucking in air through clenched teeth. "Shoot!" His eyes shot up to Julie, then to A'isha. "Sorry guys but I've gotta go! Firas is gonna kill me!"

"Hop to it then, Dani-kins," Julie teased.

"I'm hoppin'!" Dani insisted, before spinning on his heel, sprinting down the hallway and out of sight, but not before shouting out over his shoulder, "Saturday night! Think about it, Ishy Poo!"

A'isha couldn't resist another smile.  _Hanging out with Dani and Julie at this party_ would  _almost combat the torture that will no doubt result from Marik's company... Almost._

"So," Julie's clucky tone stole A'isha's attention, "what's your first class of the day?"

"Maths with Miss Tiller." Thank the heavens for her new timetable. Even if she sucked at the subject.

Julie's face lit up. "You're kidding?!"

"You too?" she asked, hope laced through her words.

"Yes!"

Relief rushed through her; she finally had a friend in one of her classes, not to mention this class was creep-free! "Oh thank goodness!"

"I'd say! Maths is the only class that I'm a loner in." She leaned in close, her next words no more than a whisper. "And I swear I drew the short straw and got the super gossipy girl group in my Maths class this grade, so you have no idea how relieved I am to have a friend to go absolutely insane with." She snickered. "We'll probably  _become_  the annoying girls ourselves."

A'isha chuckled. "Well hopefully not that far...though I'm just going to warn you now that I have a super loud laugh."

"Oh, you shouldn't have told me that! I'm going to humiliate you in class." Upon receiving an unimpressed look from A'isha, Julie giggled into her hand. "I mean...not on purpose, I swear!"

"Well it'll definitely be nice to have a friend in one of my classes."

"You bet!" Julie enthused, nodding in agreement. Her expression grew pensive with her next words. "Say..." She withdrew a smart phone from her pocket, glanced at the screen, then returned it to its forming resting place. "We've still got half an hour before class starts. Do you wanna meet some of my friends? Before school they like to hang out in one of the Music classrooms. I was just on my way to meet them when I ran into you and Dani-kins."

A'isha's grin was wider than ever. "I'd love to!"

"Great!" Julie continued down the hallway, motioning for her to follow. "This way, Ishy Poo!"

For the first time in a while, A'isha truly felt at ease. Finally, things seemed to be going her way. Or at least, they were  _starting_ to.

* * *

"Oh my gosh!" A'isha raved, all smiles as Julie led her to their Maths class. "Aiden is  _hilarious_!"

Julie sighed almost dreamily. "Isn't he just?"

"And Karissa is the sweetest!" Ish giggled. "Here I was thinking you were sweet." She smirked. "You're not, by the way. You're freaking crazy."

"I don't know  _what_  you're talking about." Sarcasm was heavy in the brunette's voice.

A'isha snickered. But the expression didn't last long, for a few seconds later, her smile wavered as she noticed the many eyes of passers by were set on her; some trailing in groups through the school halls to their first class of the day, while others huddled beside classroom doors, anticipating their teacher's arrival.

One girl was frantically searching through her locker, no doubt freaking she'd forgotten a textbook or something. Upon walking past her, A'isha realised the girl's locker door was littered with pictures of Mister High and Mighty.  _I thought that only happened in the movies!_ She was unable to resist an eye roll.  _Little does she know she's obsessed with a psychopathic freak show._ The girl threw a textbook into her already unzipped bag, crouched down to re-zip it up, then simultaneously threw her bag over her shoulder and slammed her locker door shut. "Gonna be laaate. Gonna be late!" the girl was murmuring to herself.

Only when she turned to head down the corridor did A'isha catch her face; her auburn locks flowed in waves over her dainty shoulders, complemented by caramel highlights. Her hair served to bring out the teal green hue of her almond eyes. Ish recalled the profile picture she'd briefly glimpsed of that Atia girl; it looked a lot like her... The girl glanced Ish's way, before her olive skin flushed scarlet, emphasised furthermore by the red of her hair, and she quickened her pace down the hallway, heading the same way as her and Julie. At least, until she ducked into a side hall with a sign overhead that bore the generic female restroom symbol.

"Hey," came a curious whisper, the single word lined with amusement. She looked right to find Julie stifling back a smirk as she leaned in close. "That was the girl that asked how well-equipped Marik is, right?"

"Yeah, I think so..." No wonder the red-head was embarrassed upon seeing her. She probably hadn't thought through that rather ballsy question when she'd messaged her last night. "Her name was Atia?"

"Yep, that's her." Julie shook her head slowly. "She's a nice girl, really... But a little shameless around her friends." She couldn't bite back a laugh at that. "A girl after my own heart, if I'm honest. Minus the Marik obsession... I mean, he's drop dead gorgeous, sure. But I've got my own beau and-" She paused, looking pensive. "I don't know," she drawled a moment later. "There's something almost...mysterious about him." She shrugged. "Maybe it's just me, but I prefer my guy being an open book. It's easier to trust him that way. Especially considering Blondie has  _quite_  the following. It'd be more than enough to make a girlfriend jealous and even  _that_ is an understatement."

"He's certainly something else," A'isha muttered, surprised that she hadn't seen him yet. Maybe he really  _had_  decided to give her some space after the...not so lovely start to her day. Well...she could dream. "Are you and Marik friends? I mean, you  _did_ just call him Blondie so..."

"Well," Julie droned, scrunching up her face as if to say 'kinda, kinda not'. "He's friends with Aiden and Dani and they're my friends. Him... I suppose he's a friend, but that whole mysterious thing kind of makes me keep my distance a little. He's been nothing but nice to me since I met him and even yesterday, he was super sweet to you too, carrying you to the sickbay and all that." She pursed her lips, stopping outside a door that A'isha presumed led to their Maths class. "But there's just something about him that makes me a little uneasy."

 _And here I thought I couldn't like Jules any more in such a short space of time,_  A'isha surmised with a smile.

Julie twisted the handle, slowly easing the door open to step inside their first class of the day. "Again, maybe that's just me-"

"It's not just you," Ish quickly assured her, following close behind her new friend. "He's-"

A familiar head of hair instantly caught her eye. She froze. Despair sliced through her. Their topic of conversation was casually leaning over the teacher's desk, listening intently to whatever the woman was saying.  _What the hell is Mister High and Mighty doing here?_

A'isha caught his creepy voice a second later, but sadly – or perhaps thankfully? – missed whatever it was that he'd told their teacher. The giggle that followed his words suggested that whatever he'd said, it was apparently hilarious.  _Or vomit-inducing,_  she sourly thought, deciding she was glad she hadn't heard whatever it was that he'd said.

She glared daggers at his blond head of hair. That is, until he spun half a circle to face her and Julie, briefly adjusting the bag slung over his right shoulder. She noted the pretty young woman that must have been Miss Tiller, and the way she smiled up at him. Of course, even a teacher seemed to have a crush on him. Granted she was probably in her mid-twenties, but still... he was, what, fifteen or sixteen? She hadn't bothered to stalk his Facebook beyond observing that humiliating excuse for a profile picture, so she didn't know his exact age.

Miss Tiller's attention returned to the sheet of paper they must have been going over. Meanwhile, Marik's settled on her, his lavender orbs searing into hers, only heightening her unease.

"Blondie," Julie broke the silence. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a free period because you're such a Maths whizz?"

A'isha dreaded his answer.  _Please tell me he's just having a student-teacher fling with Miss Tiller and was just leaving!_

Marik feigned disappointment, though A'isha could see straight through it, which only strengthened her scowl at the blond. "Actually, Mister Vallis advised that free periods are unfortunately not permitted for students in our grade." The glee in his next words...she knew that was  _very_  real. "So he's assigned me as a Teacher Aid for this class."

"Really?" Julie's brows knitted together. "But we're in the  _middle_  tier as far as our proficiency in Maths is concerned. Why wouldn't he assign you to a lower tier class?"

Marik shrugged. "Maybe some students are falling behind?" he suggested, his voice seemingly innocent and sickly sweet.

Julie glanced at five girls gathered in a group in the back-right corner of the class. "Like them?" she quietly said, smirking.

Marik's eyes followed hers. He revealed a dashing smile when a few of the girls waved his way; then they huddled closer, giggling among themselves. Probably over how the "hottest guy in school" had acknowledged their existence. Marik looked back at Ish and Jules. "Probably," he agreed, snorting in clear amusement.

"Well," A'isha drawled, a smirk finding its way across her lips as her arms twisted across her chest. "I agree that there must be  _something_  wrong with them."

The mirth on Marik's face dropped for a split second. She was  _near_   _certain_  she caught Julie stifling laughter. And she was  _dead_   _certain_  Marik had noticed too, based on the second long glare he sent the brunette's way...and then it was gone, while Julie was oblivious to its existence in the first place.

"By the way, Marik," Julie said with a sly smile, "I'm still a little sore about you raiding my closet." Her smile grew. "I swear you stretched by favourite little red dress."

An innocent laugh shook his shoulders. "Sorry about that, Jules. How about I buy you another?"

"Naaaa." She waved her hand dismissively. "The photos were payment enough...even if it  _was_  my favourite dress." She turned to A'isha, away from Marik. "Anyway, where should we sit? Back left corner of the class?"

"Sounds good to me." She noticed that spot was alongside the window that looked out over the school pool. "Though do me a favour; don't let me stare out the window. I'm a terrible day dreamer."

"Noted."

A'isha thanked her friend, shuffling along behind her to claim a seat at the back of the room. Julie took the one closest to the window, leaving her to occupy the seat beside the walkway they'd used to get there. All desks in the class were arranged into rows of two, though the group of girls at the back right corner of the class had re-arranged their desks into a group of six, with two desks set opposite each other and the third desk positioned at one end of the first two. Those five giggling girls currently occupied that makeshift table, chatting animatedly among themselves.

Ish threw her bag on her desk, rummaging through it for her equipment for today's lesson; a thick textbook, an exercise book lined with tiny grids, and her pencil case. Then she dumped the bag against the wall behind them, only a metre and a half away from her seat, before slumping into said seat with a groan of self pity.

Other students had also piled into the class, some sparing nosy glances A'isha's way before taking their seats. Some even leaned in close to whisper something in a friend's ear after looking at her.  _No doubt gossiping that I'm the girl who had her lights knocked out by Tamarillo._

A'isha's cerulean eyes narrowed on the arrogant blond who had resorted to scanning over some sheet of paper that probably had something to do with his new TA role.  _This had better be his horrendously terrible idea of a joke._

" _ **Sadly not, Dear A'isha."**_

She straightened in shock as he glanced up from the sheet of paper to meet her gaze. She narrowly avoided planting her head against her desk, having grown accustomed to having her thoughts to herself all morning.

Instead, her eyes narrowed to slits on the jerk.  _I hate you. So much._ Her eyes fell to her desk, where she glared at her poor textbook. It was full of headache inducing Maths equations, so who could really blame her?  _Nice comeback, Ish. 'I hate you'. Genius._

A chuckle within her head was his only response. She growled almost audibly, cursing her inner-blondness at the fact she'd thought something so stupid when he would obviously be listening. She bitterly concluded that the jerk must've bestowed a few stupid brain cells upon her amidst all the mind reading.

The only thing that was even remotely positive at this point was that she hadn't banged her leg against her desk when he'd talked to her via his weird mind link thing, like she had to his dining table over dinner on Sunday night...and perhaps another positive was that Julie was here too. Though, really, was that a good thing? What if she lost her cool or accidentally hissed something out loud, intending for it to be said to Marik alone within the confinements of her mind? Julie might think she's crazy and avoid the heck out of her. Then bye bye friends.

" _ **Why thank you for the rather tempting ideas."**_ Another creepy chuckle in her head.  _ **"**_ _ **I didn't foresee you actually making a friend-"**_ That comment had her wanting nothing more than to punch him square in the face _ **"**_ _ **-though perhaps your new friend**_ _ **will only make this all the more amusing."**_

He wasn't smirking, probably because the class was nearly packed with students and the teacher was also right there...but he didn't need to anyway. His sneer seemed to be burned into her short term memory, rearing its infuriating head her way at the worst possible moment. Like now, when she couldn't scream at him out loud. Doing it in her head wasn't nearly as satisfying.

A'isha's eyes had somehow drifted to the window to her right. She had been deep in thought, so that wasn't really surprisingly.  _You want something amusing? Go jump out that damn window._ She narrowly avoided a sweet smile, lest someone see it and think her crazy.  _It'll certainly have_ me  _laughing._

For once, timing seemed to be on her side, for the blare of the bell bounced off the walls before Marik could respond; it signalled that class commenced in five minutes. That odd tingling feeling vanished from her head as the teacher turned to Blondie, saying something Ish was too far away to hear. Aaand he was back to smiling innocently, sheepishly rubbing his neck at whatever the teacher had said, laughing away... then saying something that made the woman laugh. It was disgusting.

"Are you  _sure_ you don't fancy him?" Julie's teasing tone lurched her from her brooding. "You've been staring at him for going on a minute now."

A'isha would've recoiled in disgust, had she been standing. Instead, she settled on fake-gagging. "Definitely not!" she shrieked a little louder than she'd planned. Luckily her classmates were too enthralled in their own conversations to notice her sickened shriek. "I mean, you heard me basically dis him about those girls not being in their right mind to fawn over him." She groaned at the mere thought of his fangirls, still unable to grasp how such a creeper could have  _so many_. "I was just watching him flirting with the teacher and was wondering if he's sleeping with her." She snorted, smirking. "Maybe that's why he's "aced" every level of Maths." She emphasised 'aced' in air quotes.

Julie snickered. "I would be inclined to agree with you...if Dani and Aiden hadn't told me he's never even  _kissed_  a girl."

A'isha was thankful she wasn't drinking. She surely would've spit taked. "Wait-" she began in a hushed voice. "He basically has a mob of horny teenage girls obsessing over him and he hasn't even had his first  _kiss_?!"

Julie sent a look her way, as if to say 'Crazy, right?' Then she said, "I didn't believe it either, but Aiden said this came from Marik himself...on a rare occasion where Blondie had one beer too many. And Aiden wouldn't make this up." She grinned as she continued to whisper, "Aiden once told me that he wonders if Marik's gay. Apparently Dani wonders too." Her voice became a notch quieter again. "Because he never talks about having a crush on a girl and back in their first year of High School, when puberty-cursed guys are meant to get an awkward boner at the mere sight of a girl, he didn't even seem interested in joining their talks over hot girls back then."

A'isha glanced across the room at the blond boy, who had returned to reading that sheet of paper. She couldn't quite see from this distance, but he looked to be gripping the paper perhaps a little too tightly.

"Hey," Julie drawled, stealing Ish's attention as she lightly nudged her shoulder with one hand, while her other gently rubbed her head. "Have you ever head pins and needles in your head or is something wrong with me?"

A'isha went rigid. Her eyes snapped back to Marik, and she was met by fierce lavender irises. They returned to the sheet in his hand a moment later.

"Huh..." Her sights returned to Julie, who appeared more than a little befuddled. "That's weird... My head feels fine now."

"Yeah..." A'isha swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to tell her new friend that Marik had just been reading her mind, no doubt to eavesdrop on their freaking conversation...which had been about his sexuality. Oh great. But Julie would probably just think she was crazy. "That's really weird," she finally said, furrowing her brows in a mixture of fear and frustration. Fear for her friend, after they'd gossiped about something that clearly had him fuming, and frustration at the fact she could do nothing about it. Only accept it. And now infuriation joined that cocktail of emotions, as her hands curled into fists upon her desk.

The bell blared once more. Miss Tiller swept from her desk to stand to Marik's right, between him and the door, and right in front of the desks that lined the centre row of the room. Her hazel eyes scanned the class as she offered a small smile. "Good morning, everyone." Her voice, like her posture, was very composed. "Before we start, I have an announcement to-"

"I'M NOT LATE!" a desperate voice suddenly panted, as a familiar red-head gracelessly skidded through the door and into the classroom. "Well," Atia drawled, wincing as the teacher sent an unimpressed look her way. "I'm like fifteen seconds late but I  _did_ run here and I  _hate_ running and when you've gotta go you've gotta-" She stilled, her gasp slicing across the hushed classroom as Marik peered around Miss Tiller. "Holy shit." She threw her hands to her lips, her teal eyes bulging while her face put tomatoes to shame. "I- I mean... Jeepers creepers! Holy guacomole! What the juice box! Anything but holy shi...oot." She laughed awkwardly, the sound like dread. "Pleasedon'tgivemedetention!"

"Miss Henton," Miss Tiller muttered, seeming to be far too familiar with Atia's overzealous ways. "Take your seat."

"With pleasure," Atia squeaked in clear humiliation. With her head down, she scrambled to the back of the class. "And maybe then I'll jump out the window, plunging to my untimely death," she mumbled as she collapsed in the sixth chair, among the girls at the back right corner of the class. "I'm dying of humiliation right now anyway." A groan escaped the girl's lips as her head met the desk. "I hate my life."

"Miss Henton," Miss Tiller all but growled. Atia straightened, her eyes shooting up to her teacher. She immediately sunk into her seat as she perceived the irritated woman's gaze. "If you continue to disrupt my class, you  _will_ be given detention. For the rest of the week."

"S-Sorry, Miss Tiller," Atia meekly stuttered, resorting to quietly withdrawing her stationary from her back pack.

A'isha had observed the whole scene, stifling back laughter at Atia's obvious obsession with Marik. It was embarrassing to even  _watch_  the poor girl.

"Did I forget to mention that Atia's absolutely hilarious too?" Julie whispered. "Part of me wonders if she does it on purpose... I mean, it's one way to get Marik's attention. He gets giggles and hellos all day." A'isha merely flashed a small smile at her friend, seeing as the teacher clearly had something to say. Knowing her luck, Miss Tiller would notice them whispering and growl at her next.

"Now as I was saying, I have an announcement to make." Miss Tiller gestured to the blond beside her. A'isha noted he must have been roughly half a head taller than the young teacher. "As some of you may know, Marik has completed all Mathematics courses that this school has on offer." She smiled at Marik; no doubt she adored a student who excelled at what was most likely her favourite subject...maybe even her passion. "Due to this, Mister Vallis has assigned him as a Teacher Aid for this class."

Immediately, a loud thump shot through the room, followed by a pained whimper. All eyes fell on Atia, who blushed all over again. "Sorry, Miss Tiller," she cried, terrified by the fed up look the woman was sending her way. She swiftly scooped her textbook off the floor to dump it on her desk. "I just...dropped my book...on my foot." She cleared her throat. "Carry on."

"Miss Dahar." A'isha straightened slightly when the teacher looked her way. "We're already half way through Probability and Statistics, so I'd like to assign Marik to work with you for the first half of the lesson." She smiled at her new student. "I believe some one-on-one tutoring will be very beneficial to you." Her smile stretched. "With Marik's help, you'll be up to speed in no time, I'm sure."

Ish was shocked by the fact the woman's voice sounded normal. No weird, creepy grate. Nothing. She was just... _saying_ this.  _Marik must love this woman,_  she concluded.

"Without a doubt, Miss Tiller," Marik coolly stated. He gripped the back of a nearby empty seat, effortlessly lifting it over his head with one hand to carry it down the walkway to her and Julie.

 _And the probability of me jumping out the window to_ my  _untimely death is now certain,_  she sourly thought, hating the warm and seemingly innocent smile her new 'tutor' gave her. This was just  _so_ typical! The  _one class_ she didn't share with Creeper McCreeperson...and now he was her tutor. He basically had an excuse to be right up in her face, and she  _knew_ he'd used his crazy mind powers to make this happen. The freaking jerk! She minutely considered flunking Maths purely to make him look bad...but that didn't exactly do her any favours in the long run, as amusing as it would be.

The sickly sweet smile he revealed as he set his seat down beside her only made her want to strangle him... though really, when  _didn't_  she want to throttle that jewellery clad neck of his?  _Never,_  she silently answered, narrowly resisting the urge to glare as he suavely slid into his seat, placing his bag at his feet.

" _ **It would be rude not to thank dear Miss Tiller for considering your education, would it not?"**_  A chuckle bounced through her brain.  _ **"**_ _ **After all...we know how much you hate being rude."**_

A'isha loathed the truth his words held. She  _did_ hate being rude...to anyone but him, that is. She clenched her fists. "Thank you, Miss Tiller," she slowly said, carefully masking the agitation that almost had her trembling.

_Asshole._

Another laugh in her head.

"That's quite alright, Miss Dahar." Miss Tiller smiled warmly, before continuing with her lesson. "Now, class. Please turn to page sixty three of your textbooks and work on the revision exercises one through six." The flicking of paper as students searched their books filled the class, while Miss Tiller retrieved what A'isha quickly realised was a marker from her desk drawer, then stepped over to the whiteboard. "In fifteen minutes, we'll start our next activity."

"Hey Ishy Poo?" Julie spoke up, leaning against her desk to glance between her friend and Marik. "Wanna share a textbook? We'll take up less desk space that way." She gestured to her own desk; her two Maths books, a thick pencil case with 'I'm A Bad Beach' written into it, and delicate glasses rested upon it. "'Cause these things are  _tiny_."

"Sure." She turned to face Marik, smiling sweetly. "Marik... Can you please do me a favour and put my textbook by my bag?" Her smile grew. "Not  _in_  it though... Lady stuff; I'm sure you understand."

To her dismay, Marik didn't seem the least bit frustrated, if the mirth in his eyes was any indication. "Actually, I'll use it if that's alright with you, Ish?" He glanced at Julie's textbook, which she'd laid out between them on the correct page. "Unless you want me to lean over you to read Julie's textbook?"

"Take it," she said a little too quickly, her voice drier than two week old toast.

Marik happily obliged, sprawling it across his lap. He found page sixty three on his first go. Of course.

A'isha watched in clear confusion as her tutor read the exercises. Why was he even bothering? Or was he just faking it? It's not like he'd  _actually_  help her excel at Maths! So far, he seemed so damn hell bent on making her  _suck_  in all of her classes.

"So, Ish..." He finally looked at her, wearing that same infuriatingly sweet smile. "Tell me what you know about Probability and Statistics."


	13. Chapter 12: Vert De Jalousie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Hope you're doing well! :D
> 
> Just a disclaimer... both me and The Duelist's Heiress, who is my coauthor for TWME's sister fic In A Name, are called Laura—and don't worry, I got her permission to share her name on the interwebs. So the name twin and I were discussing how Atia is pretty much us (and every other Marik fangirl) and we were saying it would've been a bit funny to name her "Laura" for that reason. I didn't because it would've seemed too self inserty and weird and that's not my intention at all. Like, I'd already made up Atia for this fic when we were discussing this; she ain't a self insert! Anyway, as a(n admittedly lame) joke, we've come up with a compromise for the name thing and you'll see it in this chapter. ;)
> 
> French translations will be at the end of the fic to avoid spoilers. :)
> 
> Please enjoy chapter twelve of TWME!

To Marik's surprise, A'isha actually knew quite a lot about probability and statistics. As far as math went, she wasn't terrible at every aspect. Rather, her incompetence at algebra, calculus and geometry let her down. A'isha was even more surprised than Marik. He was actually doing his job, tutoring her where necessary. She found it weird, to say the least. Was it about to rain cats and dogs too?

A'isha had breezed through the activities in Julie's textbook, then the questions Miss Tiller had scribbled on the whiteboard. She was pretty dang pleased with herself, feeling like she'd gotten most – if not all – of the answers right; though naturally, she refused to thank Marik for smoothing out any edges, so to speak. He didn't deserve it after everything he'd put her through.

After setting down her pen, A'isha glanced at the blond on her left. He was sifting through her textbook, looking bored out of his insane, little mind. He'd hardly needed to help her. Rather, he'd gone through the first few exercises with her, helped her solve some equations, then realised her capability and left her to do her thing. Even more surprisingly – especially when he was so obviously bored – Blondie wasn't talking to her via his creepy mind link. He hadn't done much of that at all today.

A few questions had stemmed from the jerk's new behaviour, only to swirl about her brain rather than leaving her lips. He must have felt her eyes on him and wondered why that was, for her head began to tingle.

_Marik?_

Silence.

_I know you can hear me._

More silence.

 _Seriously! I'm actually_ asking  _to talk to you through your weird telepathic link and you're_ ignoring  _me?_

Narrowed lavender orbs rose from the book to meet her gaze.  _ **"**_ _ **What is it?"**_

Her brows knitted together.  _Why are you actually_ helping  _me instead of pestering me?_

" _ **Because making you fail will merely make me look like an incompetent fool,"**_  he said as though it were obvious.

She rolled her eyes, reclining into her chair.  _And here I was thinking you actually cared._

" _ **Did I not demonstrate care this morning?"**_  For a split second, a ghost of a smirk revealed itself. Then it was gone, lest a classmate see.  _ **"**_ _ **To which you passionately rejected my offer to lend you a figurative ear-"**_

 _You shouldn't even know about that!_  A'isha hissed in her mind, nausea weighing down on her at the sickening reminder of her birthday party. Her eyes burned into his as she continued:  _And like I said, you're the last person I'd ever talk to about it!_ She frowned, absently eyeing her exercise book, littered with her work.  _You'd only be a jerk and make me feel worse._

" _ **Would I?"**_

_Of course!_

" _ **Talk to me."**_ Marik's eyes narrowed.  _ **"**_ _ **Find out."**_ His tone, like his expression, was oddly serious. It left her uneasy, doubtful and – to her immense distaste – a little curious. Probably what he was hoping for.

"Dang, Ishy Poo!" Julie interrupted, completely unaware of their telepathic talk as she leaned over A'isha to examine her exercise book. The tingling sensation in Ish's mind vanished instantly. "You're finished already?" She simpered at her friend's tutor. "Say, Marik. Wanna tutor me next?"

Marik laughed in that sickly sweet way that left A'isha wanting to throw up. "Well pass me your exercise book, Jules."

With a small smile, Julie obliged. Her brown eyes watched the boy as he glanced between the whiteboard, the textbook in his lap, and Julie's work. A minute later, he returned Julie's book to her. "You've got every question right so far," he enthused. "You don't even need my help!"

A'isha went to roll her eyes at his nice-guy act, only to realise the action would look a little out of place. Though did she really care at this point? Being cautious of her own actions along with his was only adding to the 'Why A'isha is Ridiculously Exhausted' list, which was already horrendously long. She briefly wondered how  _he_ didn't get super tired from faking friendliness all damn the time.

"Good to know I'm showing math who's boss!" Julie chimed, before getting back to work, glancing between the whiteboard and her book with newly found enthusiasm. She was obviously pleased at having gotten every answer right thus far. Well, that's if Marik wasn't lying. She wouldn't put it past him after their little gossiping session over his sexuality.  _But he prefers to subtly torture his victims,_  she reminded herself, dismissing those suspicions as way too obvious.

It was karma, really. Using his creepy abilities to eavesdrop, only to receive a figurative slap in the face upon hearing something he didn't like. The jerk damn well deserved it—

The groan of a desk leg against the wooden floor yanked that thought away. Hearing a pained cry, A'isha glanced left to find none other than Atia sheepishly rubbing her hip as she stared daggers at a desk that was slightly askew from its neighbour. Whatever the girl was muttering under her breath, Ish doubted it was G-rated.

A few seconds later, Atia shuffled the desk back in line with another to its right, sending the inanimate object another stone cold glare. Then teal eyes looked A'isha's way, and all she saw was a warm innocence. "Hey guys!" their classmate chimed with a brief wave of her hand. She shuffled past the desk and in their direction. Apparently she was over her self-proclaimed humiliation, back when she'd arrived late to class, then practically fangirled upon realising Marik was breathing the same air as her. A'isha minutely wished she was capable of curbing her own embarrassment that easily.

A moment later Atia was on her knees in front of A'isha's desk, lazily leaning against it. "How's it goin', ma peeps?"

Julie returned her enthusiastic smile. "Kicking math's number-lovin' butt, so I'm pretty good!"

A'isha offered a simple "ditto" and a semi-forced smile. Atia seemed nice enough, but she still couldn't help but silently hope she wasn't there to either ask her about Mr High and Mighty—or God-forbid, to flirt with him. Either scenario would probably make her retch. She liked to think her judge of character was pretty spot on, but she still found herself hoping Atia wasn't one of those two-faced gals that believed in keeping her friends close and her enemies closer.

Meanwhile, Marik had revealed an ear-to-ear grin—likely fake. "I'm doing great! Thanks for asking, Atia!"

A'isha briefly wondered what he was thinking. Sadly, he wasn't stupid. He must've known this girl was absolutely nuts for him—and by extension, was absolutely nuts, period.

"Oh, Atia Smatia." She waved her hand dismissively, her smile growing. "My good friends call me Laura..." Her hands threaded behind her back. "My closest friends call me Lau… as in  _the_   _law_." Her eyes fell on Marik. "Because I'm all about…  _Just Us_."

 _Aaand there's the shameless pick up line._ A'isha barely avoided a face-palm at those words, and beside her, she caught Julie snort into her hand in obvious amusement. Marik merely laughed, the sound like silk. It made her feel sick all over again. How the hell was he so good at acting? He must have thought this girl was a complete and utter idiot. Poor Atia...Laura or...whatever her name was.

"I'm guessing Laura's your middle name?" Julie finally thought to ask, perhaps to end the awkwardness. A'isha briefly wondered if Atia was even aware of said awkwardness. She seemed pretty lax right now, even clueless.

Atia gave an enthusiastic nod Julie's way. "That's right!" Her teal irises averted to the girl directly before her, smile never swaying. "A'isha, right?"

"Erm... Ye-Yeah..."

Atia stunned Ish with a wider grin and an ecstatic handshake. "It's nice to meet you, A'isha!"

Looking somewhere in the realms of confused and surprised, A'isha stared at their entwined hands. Damn, the girl was like a ninja, swiping up her hand like that. "Erm... I-It's nice to meet you too, Atia."

"Please, call me Laura!" she insisted, laughing as she ended their exchange. "Better yet, call me Lau!" Without warning, the red-head suddenly leaned over the desk, well within her new friend's personal space. "You're really pretty, by the way! You should do hair commercials!"

"Uhh—"

"Oh! Sorry!" She cleared her throat, straightening soon after. "I'm terrible when it comes to figuring out where personal space starts and ends."

_Well, her and Marik must get along swimmingly._

Atia held a hand to her lips, sheepishly clearing her throat. "Anyway... I – um." She bit her lip, now looking nervous in her obsession's presence, what with the way her teal eyes kept skittishly flickering his way. "A'isha, I wanted to thank you."

"What?" Ish blurted out. "Uhh… Wh-Why?"

"The girl that Tamarillo knocked over in the cafeteria yesterday… That was my sister." She smiled gently, an expression that seemed far too calm for the super hyperactive girl. "I really appreciate you sticking up for her."

The new knowledge took A'isha by surprise, overshadowing what would have been a sour reminder of her trip to the sickbay at that crazy tank's hands; not that the ever-aching lump on her temple wasn't enough of a reminder. "I-It was nothing, really." The cliche sentence only made her feel fake.

"Are you kidding me?!" Atia squawked. "You got your lights punched out for sticking up for her! That's hardly nothing!"

"Well – Not nothing, you're right." A'isha forced a smile. "I just hate people that use their power to intimidate and overrule others."  _Like Marik,_  she ended in her head, knowing she'd thought the very same thing in the cafeteria yesterday.

"Too true!" said Atia, nodding ardently. "That loony almost beat me up a couple of years back, too. And for, like, no reason whatsoever. Maybe she just has it in for us Henton girls."

 _Henton? ... Oh, that's right! Miss Tiller addressed her as Miss Henton earlier,_  A'isha recalled, watching as Atia turned to her obsession, barely seeming to contain her infatuated excitement over the creep.

"But Marik saved me and even walked me home to make sure I was okay!"

The way she stared at him was almost heartbreaking. So genuine and full of devotion. And so, so naive it actually made A'isha sick with sympathy. She had to wonder what he possibly could have gained by saving Atia from Amarillo's wrath back then. Why would he just save someone for the hell of it? He was too much of a self-absorbed jerk... wasn't he?

Perhaps it had something to do with whatever went on between him and Amarillo. She also remembered Atia was a member of what seemed to be one of the gossiping groups in the school, so saving Atia may have also helped to thrust him into the student body's good graces, as news of her Knight in Shining Armour's marvellous deed would have spread like nobody's business.

"Don't mention it," Marik interrupted A'isha's thinking session, showing another dashing smile. His next words were lined with faux concern. "How's Tamzin doing, by the way? I hope she didn't take that psycho's actions to heart."

"Oh, Tammy's fine," Atia returned, dismissively slapping the air with both hands. "A little embarrassed, but—I mean—she couldn't stop talking about how awesome you guys were, stickin' up for her and all that jazz. Like, I'm pretty sure, A'isha, you've got a friend in her now... like Woody and Andy from Toy Story or something." The red-head paused at that point, and A'isha was sure the girl's cheeks was starting to flush. "Cause, um, y'know. That song... You've got a friend in me or whatever. Ahem." She resorted to fidgeting, awkwardly ruffling a hand through her auburn roots like she felt about as stupid as a platypus in the desert.

A'isha immediately came to her rescue, though her laugh at the random comment was very genuine. "Yeah, those movies were pretty much my childhood. And I love that song!"

Atia perked up. "Oh, I know right! Disney's, like, the bomb dot com!" she enthused, her prior bubbliness returning. She turned to their male company at that point. "So, um. Hey, Marik." she drawled, still ruffling her roots. "You wouldn't be able to please help my group out with a few of these questions, would you? I think we only have ten minutes left to finish them and we're kinda stuck."

Marik glanced over his shoulder to find Atia's friends ogling at him, sickening smiles across their faces. Well... they were sickening to A'isha anyway. How?  _How_  could they really be  _so_  obsessed with him?!

With a charming smile, Marik smoothly found his feet. "I'd love to help you out! That's why I'm here, after all."

A'isha barely bit back a smirk as Marik suavely stepped along behind Atia to her group of friends. She could tell he was lying. Being around a bunch of girls who were more interested in staring at him than learning anything sounded more than a little frustrating, even though it probably stroked his already swollen ego too. But all of that didn't make the situation any less funny. He  _had_ brought this upon himself by somehow becoming the TA for her math class.

_Finally, karma's on MY side._

* * *

 

A'isha dashed out the door the second the bell rung, while Marik was busy discussing something or other with Miss Tiller. Probably more of that disgusting flirting he seemed to be doing earlier.

She had parted ways with Julie right outside, seeing as the girl was heading in the opposite direction. Ish just hoped Jules hadn't felt like she was itching to get rid of her; really, she was itching to make a run for her next class before Sir Jerk-A-Lot had a chance to catch up. And thanks to her brand spanking new map of the school, finding her French class probably wouldn't be a problem. Maybe she'd even manage to claim a desk as far away from Marik as possible.

Weaving through streams of students, A'isha had barely rounded the first corner to her next class when swift, yet somehow still calculated steps echoed through the hallway. Did he practice walking so suavely or something?

 _Maybe he's a raging alcoholic,_  A'isha humoured herself,  _and he spends all of his free time walking in a straight line for those awkward times when the fuzz pull him over for a balance test._

Boy, if the random thoughts popping into her head didn't prove how exhausted she was, A'isha didn't know what  _would_. And she'd even managed eight hours of sleep last night, unlike the mere few hours she managed every other evening.

"Wait up, Ish!" came a voice that had her yearning for a pillow to scream into. Maybe the map in her hand would work we—

A'isha tensed as a warmth wrapped around her upper arm. She glared at Blondie the second she saw that infuriatingly angelic smile, then at the hand he'd curled around her bare bicep. "You didn't forget about me, did you?" he innocently asked, releasing her arm a second later.

"If only," she muttered under her breath, though her next words were a little louder. "I didn't want to interrupt your flirting session with Miss Tiller."

" _ **Don't tell me you're jealous."**_

Of course he'd fallen back to telepathic talking.

_Let me guess. You aced math by bonking the teacher?_

" _ **I don't need to woo my way to success, little Ish."**_ She caught another creepy chuckle that had become far too familiar far too quickly.  _ **"**_ _ **Besides, my sister would murder me."**_

_You make it sound like you've actually considered it._

" _ **Of course not."**_ He showed a sickly sweet smile.  _ **"**_ _ **As a matter of fact, we were discussing**_ **you** _ **."**_

A'isha rolled her eyes.  _All bad things, I'm sure._

" _ **Actually..."**_ That angelic smile of his only grew. "You really aren't as bad at mathematics as you think you are," he spoke aloud, now that his words were innocent enough for their classmates to catch.

"It must be my amazing tutor," A'isha gushed in mock sincerity.

"Naturally." Marik suddenly gripped her hand and squeezed it lightly. "Excited for French? Mr Hendricks thinks you're wonderful."

She ripped her hand from his and shove it in her pocket, away from his over-enthusiastic touch. "Ecstatic," she groaned, hardly wanting to encourage any small talk with the creep.

"It's pronounced  _en extase_."

A'isha scowled, sifting through her French vocab for the rudest form of 'shut up' she could find. It didn't take long.

"Actually, it's pronounced  _ta gueule_."

No sooner had the jab left her lips, did a slightly shocked gasp resonate from right behind her. She went rigid. Cold claws of dread, with a dash of horror-driven humiliation, sunk through her. What curve ball was the universe hurling her way now?

"Miss Dahar, did I just hear what I think I heard?"

Ignoring the fleeting look of sheer amusement from her blond classmate, A'isha spun on her heel to find Mr Hendricks staring down at her.

"I – I – Uhh."

"Don't worry, Mr Hendricks," Marik shocked her, quickly coming to her rescue. What happened to revelling in her misfortune? Or, y'know, being the reason for it? "We were just having a friendly debate as to what the rudest form of 'shut up' is in French. Y'know, prepping ourselves for class!"

Mr Hendricks' perfectly pruned mustache wriggled as he pursed his thin lips. "I see," he drawled, his oddly stern hazel irises switching between the two teens. "Well, I'll admit that you're close, but I certainly won't be sharing the worst way that you can say it." His eyes softened when a smile slid across his mouth. "Just don't bring such sayings into my class, you two," he lightly warned, before side-stepping his students to continue down the corridor.

"Of – Of course not," A'isha stuttered, her tact apparently having dived out the nearest window the very second her teacher's gasp had met her ears.

She groaned when Marik laughed beside her, cheerfully calling out, "We won't, Sir!"

A moment later, Sir Jerk-A-Lot's laughing lavender pools were on her. She could tell his amusement had soared at the sight of her confusion.

"Why did you cover for me—"

"De rien," he cut through the question, accepting her thanks before she'd even given it—not that she'd planned to.

With that, Marik suavely spun on his heel to take the same path as their teacher. A'isha sent an icy glare at his back, her fists curling at her side.

_De rien... You're welcome..._

Her fists clenched tighter.

Boy, he was a pain in the derrière.

* * *

 

Forty five minutes later, French class was almost over and A'isha didn't know what to think.

To her immense surprise, it had been way less torturous than she'd anxiously anticipated, and not just because Mr Hendricks had cared enough to pull her aside and ask if she was alright after her... err...  _encounter_  with The Tank. Fortunately, only a handful of students had spotted her, then whispered in their neighbour's ear, no doubt over the same pride-battering event to have earned her teacher's concern.

Ish hadn't managed to snag a seat as far away from Sir Jerk-A-Lot as humanly possible; but, without a word, he  _had_ selected two seats, one in front of the other, that were pressed against the windowless wall, considerably curbing her habit of daydreaming in the process. And even more startlingly, her thoughts had been hers and hers alone for the duration of the class, unless there was a way for him to read her mind without the faint tingling sensation. She hoped not.

As for any activities that involved a buddy, Marik had even toned down the jerkness.

"You're completely butchering the French language."

Well, sort of.

"What?  _How_?" A'isha shrieked, sitting back-to-front on her chair to face the blond. Clearly, she looked like the very definition of refined and proper, each leg slung over the base of the chair while her arms were perched atop the back of it.

"How do you think?" Marik answered matter-of-factly. Ish felt that maybe –  _just maybe_  – she was gradually learning how to  _not_ take offence to the infuriating blond's snarky comments; though the false friendliness in which he delivered them was still pretty hard to take. Furrowing her brows, she focussed on the matter at hand, repeating the French phrase with a little more effort. "Où se trouve le serrurier le plus proche?"

"No,  _silly_!" Marik cooed through a light bout of laughter. "It's pronounced  _serrurier_."

Ish groaned. "Isn't that what I said?"

"Not even close." He feigned a sincere smile. "I know you can do it, Ish." Pfft. As if he really had any faith in her. "Repeat after me: Où se trouve le serrurier le plus proche?"

A'isha rolled her eyes, almost thankful for the fact he'd opted on sitting at the very back of the class. It meant she could express her hate for him far more openly. "Fine. I'll amuse you."

"Oh. S'il vous plaît." A sly smile snaked across his lips as he leaned across his desk, lavender eyes set on her. "Amuse-moi," he taunted, thrusting an irritating realisation her way: she wasn't the  _only one_  who could express themselves more openly now that they were at a back corner of the classroom.

Another eye roll. "Alright. So… Où se trouve le serrurier le plus proche?" The laughter in his eyes already spoke volumes, but she bothered to ask anyway; "Was that any better?"

Exhaling lightly through his nose, Marik shook his head slowly. "It's just that one word letting you down."

She sighed. "You mean  _serrurier_?"

Even then, she'd sucked at saying it, which was probably why he was pursing his lips in an obvious attempt to bite back laughter. He took no time to compose himself. "It's one of the most difficult words to pronounce," he pointed out. "The multiple R's demand rolls of the tongue in quick succession, something that can be quite hard to achieve."

"Well go on then," she dared, flourishing a feminine hand out before her to emphasise the request.

"Very well." Blondie showed a cocky smirk. One that told her he'd ace the phrase; the universe apparently hated her too much to let him suck at anything. "Où se trouve le  _serrurier_  le plus proche?" he spoke, both his pronunciation and accent utterly flawless. Of freaking course.

Her black brows gathered. "Wait – How did you say serr...whats-a-ma-jig again?"

"Serrurier," he repeated with care.

She cocked her head. "Serrurier?"

" _Serrurier_."

A'isha's visage twisted into a look of intense concentration. "Se-rru-ri-er?"

By this point, Marik was grinning from ear-to-ear, revealing blindingly white teeth. Apparently he was having a field day. Probably because she couldn't wrap her head around the damn word to save her life, while he could manage it without so much as a stutter. "Repeat after me," he suggested – well, basically ordered – as he eagerly shuffled forward in his seat.

Unbearably awkward couldn't even begin to describe how A'isha felt as she stared down his lips for far longer than desired—so  _at all_. As if she already didn't feel awkward enough, what with how Mr High and Mighty was being unusually helpful today. Heck, she'd almost been welcoming the arrogance scattered through half of his words, if only for its oddly more settling familiarity. The sugary sweet acting, on the other hand, just made her want to gag.

"Alright." His lavender gaze met her own blue one a little too intently. " _Se_."

"Sssse."

Marik rolled his eyes. "What are you? A snake?"

"Shut up!" Ish squawked, thoughtlessly smacking his arm—something she often did when someone would tease her.

Marik's spurt of laughter seemed uncomfortably genuine as he yanked his arm towards his chest. That was when another rush of awkwardness hit her. Had she really just playfully hit him, of all people? Ugh, and now he was grinning at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking. The jerk probably did, even without his mind powers. Just peachy.

"I said  _se."_

"Fine," she muttered, loathing the way her cheeks burned. " _Se_."

"Rru."

"Rrrruu."

"No," he snorted, forever amused. " _Rru_."

"Rru?"

"Better," he praised. "Now… Try saying  _serru_."

"Serru?"

"Oui. Serru _ri_."

"Serruri?"

"Serruri _er_."

A'isha prayed the almighty tongue gods were on her side today; then straightened slightly, hoping against hope that Marik hadn't just heard her think something so stupid. Apparently exhaustion made her worship tongue gods…

Silence and no tingling sensation. Good. He wasn't listening. Or wasn't planning on pestering her over the stupid remark, anyway.

"Is giving me lovey eyes a part of your strategy in pronouncing serrurier?" Marik goaded, tearing her from those thoughts. She blinked twice, realising she'd been watching him way too long. Oh man. Awk _ward_.

Ish cleared her throat in preparation for what would preferably be a more successful attempt at the dang word. "Serrurier?"

"Close enough."

Wow! He really knew how to encourage a classmate!

"Now, Ishy Poo, let's try that sentence again."

The phrase had come across as super condescending, as though he was telling a toddler to hand over some bite-sized object before they could think to stuff it in their mouth. She tried to ignore it, though in that moment she decided his snark was somewhat easier to tolerate than his conceitedness. Probably because – when comfortable enough with someone – she could deliver just as much snark back. Wait—but she wasn't comfortable around him, so that didn't even make sense? Oh gosh, she really needed a few nights of good sleep.

A'isha slowly sucked in a breath, exhaled, then cleared her throat once more. "Okay… Où se trouve le  _serrurier_  le plus proche?"

"Enfin!" Marik quietly, yet dramatically announced. The single word was French for 'finally', and was currently the reason for another infamous eye roll from A'isha.

"Gee. Thanks for the kind praise."

"We'll forget that you still don't have  _serrurier_  down," he teased, making her groan and throw her hands in the air as though cursing some higher being.

"Seriously? I was  _sure_  I had it right."

He shrugged. "You aren't pronouncing it as fluidly as you could be. That's all."

"Ugh. Well if you can do it, then so can I. So what? Is there some kind of trick to acing those R's that you're not telling me?" A'isha regretted her question the second she fell victim to a perverse sneer.

"There sure is, Dear A'isha," Marik whispered, leaning over his desk to close a little too much distance between them. He adopted an unsettlingly husky tone as he continued, "I'm good with my tongue."

And just like that, A'isha's flushed face earned envy from tomatoes all over the globe. "You – You're disgusting!" she somehow hissed in a quiet tone, and shoved his face out of her personal bubble.

When his only reply was a wink, Ish proceeded to scoff, twisting in her seat to face her desk. The mirth-laden laughter behind her only had her cringing ten-fold, as she all but slammed her head into her textbook.

_Can class just be over already?_

Hardly a minute passed before A'isha got her wish, the shrill ring of the bell resonating through the classroom, followed by the familiar sounds of hefty textbooks slapping shut, pens rustling in pencil cases and the abrupt zipping of school bags. Over all the commotion, Mr Hendricks was reminding them to finish off any exercises for homework. Fortunately, she'd already done so.

Another benefit of being at the back of the class? She didn't need to wait for the walkway to clear, as her fellow students had already beelined for the exit, refusing to waste even a millisecond of their morning interval.

Leaping to her feet, A'isha shrugged into her heavy, leather backpack, already having a destination in mind: a group of picnic tables by the school field, where Julie had mentioned her friend group hung out during breaks; unless it was raining, to which they then resorted to chilling in the same music room her new friend had shown her before class commenced today.

A'isha tensed the second Marik's merry voice tortured her ears.

"Heading to the picnic tables, are we?"

She pulled a one eighty to glower Blondie's way, the look only hardening another notch when she noticed his infuriatingly happy smile. The jerk looked like the very definition of enthusiastic, what with his hands stuffed in his pocket and his posture dead straight as he rocked back and forth on his feet, from his heels to his toes and back again.

"Please tell me you're  _not_ ," she groaned, already knowing the answer.

"Well, I always hang out with Dani, Aiden and all that." Smile stretching, he cocked his head to the right, his platinum blond locks following suit. "So lead the way, Ish."

A'isha tipped her head back, groaning to the ceiling as she willed her legs into motion, with Marik right on her heel. Of course, the moment they left the classroom, he seized the opportunity to slip to her side. That only willed A'isha into shoving her hands into the pockets of her snug-fitting, three quarter jeans, refusing to risk him going in for another gossip-fuelling hand hold. She swore she heard him chuckle at that.

The Egyptian duo weaved their way through hoards of other students: some rummaging through lockers; others chatting away in a circle, blocking a portion of the corridor in the process; most, like them, were navigating the sea of fellow students with a destination in mind.

Unsurprisingly, Marik was receiving greetings left, right, centre, back, front, diagonally and every other way A'isha could think of. The throws of hi's, hello's or some equivalent rekindled the flame of one question she simply couldn't shake, which only reminded her of another.

Now that she thought about it, Marik  _did_  seem a little less egotistical today—emphasis on  _a_   _little_. Setting aside technicalities, maybe Mr High and Mighty would actually be in the mood for answering questions, rather than dancing around them. Or at least, maybe he'd give an answer that was actually enlightening.

 _It's not like I have anything to lose,_  she reasoned, eyeing the boy beside her as he whistled some tune she didn't recognise. Something unfittingly upbeat. What had him so happy?

When they ditched the stuffy, brick building and reunited with the cool, fresh air of the school yard, A'isha seized the opportunity to ask away while no students were around. She'd ask through their weird mind speak, but her mind hadn't tingled since their walk to French, so he probably wouldn't hear her.

A'isha started with the less gutsy question. Or, at the very least, the one she had higher hopes on getting an actual answer to. "So…" The whistling ceased. His amethyst eyes snapped her way. "How long have you been acting like Mr Nice Guy meets the Saintiest of Saints?"

Marik arched a smooth brow. "Who says I'm acting?" he softly challenged.

"You're kidding, right?"

"If one embraces a role for long enough, they eventually forget that there was ever a part to be played."

She rolled her eyes at the rather cryptic statement. Couldn't he just give her a straight answer like a normal person?

"So… long enough that acting like a total suck up is second nature to you?"

"More or less."

Sweet relief filled her with its warmth as she spotted a group of familiar students in the middle distance, crowded around a couple of picnic tables. Thank the Heavens! Soon she wouldn't be alone with Sir Jerk-A-Lot!

Sighing, A'isha returned to the present rather than rooting for the very near future. "Second question." She gave him a pointed look. "Why are you being so nice to me today?" She already had her suspicions, but wasn't sure she believed them.

"Do I really need to answer that?"

A'isha scoffed. He couldn't possibly be showing some level of compassion because of her shoddy morning. She said as much.

"Believe it or not," Marik started, "I'm more than capable of expressing compassion where it's due."

"What?" A'isha snapped, ire suddenly making her shake. "So it's  _not_  due when I move to a whole other country because of my parents passing away, but it's due when—"

"HEADS UP!"

In an instant, A'isha was embracing her inner cat, leaping to impressive heights as something raucously slammed into the pavement. It sounded close. Ridiculously close. As her heart battered against her rib-cage, her eyes snapped left. A football. It had probably landed half a metre to her left, if that. Now that she thought about it, that shouldn't have come as a surprise. They were right by the school field, after all.

Ish exhaled in the aftermath of her borderline heart attack, her ire evaporating and her mind zoning in on the present. She watched the ball bounce about the pavement following its initial reunion with solid ground. Certainly better than the thing becoming acquainted with her face. One headache thanks to Tamarillo was enough for the week.

Actually, if she counted Marik's incessant pestering, she'd already exceeded her weekly headache quota by a bajillion.

A sheepish laugh seized her attention and she soon caught sight of a familiar face. She'd recognise that blinding smile anywhere.

"Sorry about that, Ishy Poo!" Dani called out from the outer rims of the school field, maybe thirty feet away. A couple of other guys were scattered around him, participating in a little ball chucking and kicking. "Though dayum, have you ever considered being a wide receiver?" He laughed. "The way you leaped in the air in two seconds flat, you'd be perfect!"

A'isha snickered. "Well I applied for a position on my old school team," she played along, "but my smile wasn't distractingly white enough to make the cut."

"Why thank you for noticing," Dani returned, smiling brighter still.

"Any time," she laughed, only to tense a second later as a scoff hissed through her mind.

" _ **Seriously? You're flirting with a guy over his**_ **teeth** _ **?"**_

A'isha scowled at the blond on her right. Truth be told, she'd forgotten he was even there. For once. During her brief interaction with Dani, her far less amicable peer had plucked up the football and – for some reason – returned to her side. Now he was busying himself by bouncing the thing on the pavement, somehow doing so in a way that didn't cause it to unpredictably rebound in some random direction. She refused to be impressed, instead focussing on his silly accusation.

Despite the scoff that spiralled through her lips, she somehow remembered to think her response.  _You've got to be freakin' kidding me!_ She barely registered the way her lips had curled into a pout.  _I am NOT flirting with him! The last thing I need right now is a boyfriend!_

" _ **Are you sure Dani's '** **distractingly white smile'** **hasn't**_   _ **blind** **ed** **you to the truth?"**_

_I—It was just a joke! It didn't mean anything! And- And anyway, who I DO or DON'T decide to flirt with is none of your business!_

Marik bounced the ball again, his narrowed gaze fixed on the pavement.  _ **"**_ _ **You were flirting,**_ **Ishy Poo.** _ **"**_  Another bounce. She could've sworn it had been harder.  _ **"**_ _ **Just admit it."**_

 _It's called making friendly chit chat,_  Ish shot back.  _Why don't you try it sometime? Or can't you make friends without the help of your creepy mind pow—_

She tensed as an abrupt  _pop_  roared through the air, like the resounding rumble of a bullet launching from a pistol. It took two seconds for her to notice the slowly shrivelling shell of the football at Marik's feet. And twice that time to catch his dumbfounded expression before he wiped it from his face. Instead, his brows furrowed over his glazed lavender eyes and his lips settled into a thin line.

Marik said nothing. Neither did she. Although she may have thought a few colourful lines within the realms of "calm your farm, you freaking psycho" or "how the hell did you pop a football meant for sport between a bunch of burly dudes twice your size?" Such thoughts, she knew, were not at all ideal when said psycho was in her head.

"Oh fudge knuckles!" a new voice piped up, one A'isha almost instantly knew belonged to the far more tolerable blond in the vicinity. Dani must've crossed the field to reach her side while she'd been preoccupied by Sir Jerk-A-Lot. He plucked the carcass of his beloved ball off the worn pavement in one large hand.

Through a staring contest with the ground, Marik mumbled out a, "Sorry." It sounded about as convincing as toddler who'd just had his hand in the cookie jar. So not at all.

"Ehh... It's fine. I mean... well, it's a good thing I bought this hunk of junk at a bargain shop." She could've sworn she'd glimpsed a slightly faded signature on one section of the football before Dani tucked it under a bare, toned arm. Poor guy was obviously lying to clear Marik's conscience, not that the jerk didn't deserve every shred of guilt thrown his way.

Dani continued. "And, y'know... that I always keep a spare in the trunk of my car." He glanced at the digital watch on his left wrist."Aaand we've got about ten minutes of break left."

His sky blue eyes met hers as he revealed an undeniably dashing smile. It was warm and welcoming, nothing like the boy's beside her. It almost felt strange, seeing such warmth after being exposed to the ice-laden irises and the unnerving chuckle of her taunter for four days. Gosh, four days? It felt like far longer than that.

"Say, Ishy Poo..." Dani drawled, stealing her from her daydreaming before she could drift too far. She noticed the way he'd started slicking his right hand through his golden locks. Was he nervous... again? "Uhh... Do ya mind if I steal him for a bit of ball tossing?" His dashing smile sunk, replaced by horror. "Th-That sounded way less gay in my head. I mean, it sounded not at all gay in my head." His hand left his hair to sheepishly rub his neck. "No-Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. I just, uhh, happen to be straight and I don't—"

A'isha only realised she was holding back a laugh when Marik finally found his voice box again. He swooped in to grip Dani's wrist. "Let's go, Daniel."

"Uhh... Ri-Right," Dani stuttered, his lightly tanned skin flushing faintly.

She didn't miss the unimpressed look that twisted Marik's features as he dragged his blond counterpart away from the field, towards a nearby parking lot near the school entrance. Probably just a minute's walking distance away.

With Marik carelessly tugging him by the right wrist, Dani threw his left hand in the air to bid her farewell. "Buh bye, Ishy Poo!" The toothy grin he gave was downright adorable.

"See ya later, Dani Devito!" she called back, returning the wave. He only grinned wider.

A'isha couldn't help but laugh, especially when he turned to Marik and had to basically rip his wrist from the guy's grasp. She had to wonder why her self-proclaimed tour guide had dragged him off like that. He'd actually looked aggravated for a change, even defensive. Why? Why was he so bothered about Dani? And their supposed flirting, real or not?

 _Come to think of it,_  A'isha pondered, thoughtfully chewing on her lip,  _he always seems to get that way when Dani's around._  Her brows gathered.  _Is this his weird way of protecting his friends from me, like he stupidly said yesterday? Or could it be that..._ Her breathing hitched.  _Was Julie seriously onto something in the sick bay yesterday?_  Her stomach churned, writhing with unease and uncertainty.  _Could Marik actually..._

Never before had someone shook their head so fervently. How ridiculous. Such a selfish creep could never feel that way about anyone, let alone her.

At least, A'isha hoped not...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's interested, please find /loose/ French translations that may or may not be structured the grammatically correct way (the interwebs is only so accurate).
> 
> French Translations:  
> Vert de jealousie – Green with envy/jealousy  
> En extase – Ecstatic  
> Ta gueule – Shut up (one of the more offensive ways of saying it)  
> Derrière – Behind (or just a person's buttocks in English)  
> Amuse-moi – Amuse/entertain me  
> S'il vous plaît – Please  
> Où se trouve le serrurier le plus proche – Where is the nearest locksmith (random, I know, but I read that "locksmith" in French is meant to be one of the toughest words in the language to pronounce, so I went with it...)
> 
> Have a great day and please feel free to comment! I'd love to know what you think so far! :D


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